


After the end, there is always something else

by The_flabbergasting_blobb_of_fluffyness



Series: After the end [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: At least not really, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Just want the boys to be happy (after making them suffer), M/M, Noctis Lucis Caelum Lives, Post-Canon Fix-It, Prompto is precious, not gonna explain why though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_flabbergasting_blobb_of_fluffyness/pseuds/The_flabbergasting_blobb_of_fluffyness
Summary: Prompto never really got himself to confess his feelings to Noct. Until he does, but then it seemes to be too late. But the end is hardly ever the end - and fate just might give him another chance.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: After the end [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586425
Comments: 19
Kudos: 161





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo apparently some people enjoyed reading my stuff (if you read 'A father's lament', thank you so much! That was really encouraging). Anyway, I dug up another fic I originally just wrote for myself and started editing it. It's all written down and just needs some cosmetics, therefore I'll be able to post new chapters regularly. 
> 
> Thanks for coming by and I'd be happy about any feedback from you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret love is never easy - but in some cases it's worse.

It was the beginning of their second year at high school and also the first time Prompto had not only managed to make a friend in the first place, but to keep them for _twelve months_ and counting. He had always kind of expected a friendship to take a lot of work. But with Noct, it wasn’t like that at all. In fact, spending time together was so relaxing and comfortable that Prompto had to take care that he had some hours of the day left to do other stuff. Having another person occupy no small amount of his time was no longer a strange thing, and sometimes he stopped and wondered about how much it had changed his old routines. Which was good, since most of his old routines were pathetic or depressing or both. In those moments he got all giggly and tingly because hey, it seemed like he finally got the hang of this whole _social_ thing. Even if his social circle counted exactly one person apart from himself, but that was okay. It was a small circle, but formidable nonetheless. All in all, it was going well for him. Not just well - perfect.

Of course that was the point where he had to make it awkward.

He stared down at the text message from Noct with a grin. It was just a few short words confirming their plans to go to the arcade the next day. But his stomach still felt warm and bubbly ( _again_ ) as he hastily typed out his answer.

_Damn, Argentum,_ that treacherous little voice in his head chimed, _you’re so obsessed with the guy, people will think you’re in love._

_Seriously?_ his other inner voice – the one he had a bit more control over - answered. _C’mon. Like he would_ ever _think that way about me._

He put away the phone and proceeded to throw together something that would probably barely pass as dinner - as it occurred to him that somewhere, this chain of thought was missing a definitive and resolute denial. Only that it didn’t just occur to him as much as hit him with the force of a freight train.

That was how he ended up standing in the otherwise deserted kitchen of his deserted home, frozen on the spot and contemplating. The obvious solution to the dilemma would be that this was his first real friendship in, well, _forever,_ and with someone as famous as famous goes nonetheless. He was bound to have funny feelings about that, even after a whole year. It was not like he had much reference to what it was like to have a close friend after all. It might be just natural for someone as chronically (pathetically) lonely as him to latch onto the first person to show some interest and maybe even… you know… develop a tiny little crush on them. No biggie.

Just that it didn’t feel like a _no biggie_ -kind of deal. Not because his particular object of interest was a guy – that matter was hardly news to him. Even though the discovery that his interests didn’t stop at girls had never had much of an impact on him, since he wasn’t prone to start as much as a simple conversation with either gender. But this – this was something else. This wasn’t like fancying some guy he passed on the street because of his looks. Neither was it the desperate longing cheap romance novels liked to talk about so much. Noct was… Noct. His buddy. His best friend. He had just never considered before that there were things outside the boundaries of their relationship that… would be nice to do. Was that considered a crush? Was it creepy to think like that about his friend?

The longer Prompto pondered the matter, the more it became evident that he had an almost ridiculous lack of examples as to how friendships as well as – he could barely bring himself to think of the word without flushing crimson from his hairline to his toes – romantic relationships normally worked. That was why for now, he did his best to keep the thought stored away safely in a very tiny, very dark corner of his mind.

That didn’t mean it was gone, though. Because _that_ would have been much too convenient, wouldn’t it?

In the weeks to come, he learned three things.

First, it was both very easy and insufferably hard to be Noct’s friend while also developing what he feared might be a major crush on him. Easy because when they were hanging out with each other, whether they were playing videogames and eating burgers in silence or happily giving each other shit as they always did, he simply forgot. Hanging out with Noct felt so comfortable by now that for most of the time, his brain didn’t bring up his doubts or insecurities (or in this case: obsessions) anymore. Hard because every now and then, it still did, because it was an asshole. And in true asshole-fashion it wouldn’t just bring that fluttery feeling in his own stomach to his attention, but also certain patches of skin or lines of a body in front of his eyes that he wouldn’t even have _noticed_ before. Then he would feel the heat rising in his cheeks and fix his eyes firmly on his shoes to avoid staring at his friend’s bare neck or the traces of his lean muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt or – Astrals forbid – anything farther south than the waistband of his pants.

Second - which tied in directly with the first – now that he thought about it, Noct was _hot._ Of course he had been aware before that his friend was considered attractive. Still, the fact that _he thought Noct was hot_ was another matter altogether. But he had confirmed as much, not only because he caught himself staring at his body (which he might be able to brush off with some sort of lame excuse if he thought about it really hard) but also because he caught himself thinking of him when he… well. When he did what any healthy male his age was wont to do in abandon. It had partly happened on accident because Noct just occupied a lot of his mind these days - and partly on purpose because curiosity had driven him, because he _had to know_. He would never admit the latter, though. Not even if the whole Crownsguard were to try and torture it out of him. Anyway, it had been a one-time slip up. Totally. Pinkie-swear. A slip up that had caused him to feign sickness for a week, just so he could skip school and avoid looking Noct in the face with the feeling that the other one could somehow read his mind with all its dirty secrets.

Third, all of the above didn’t matter. The reasons were manifold, with the most important of them being:

Noct had never shown any sign of being interested in him or in guys period, so it was probably wasted effort anyway.

Prompto valued their friendship far too much to risk it for what could very well be nothing more than a pubertal whim.

The mere thought of him confessing to Noct filled him with panic until he felt like throwing up.

Noct was the heir to the throne of Lucis and therefore destined to marry some princess and continue the line of kings. Not much room for a dalliance with his high school buddy in that design.

Last but not least and the most important reason of them all: He loved him. He had been surprised at the fierceness of the feeling once it came to him, but it felt _right_ all the same. It was an irrevocable fact that had nothing to do with the question whether he would get into his pants one day. He wanted to do what was best for Noct, what would make him happy. Pushing his feelings on him, even though he knew nothing could ever come of it, would feel selfish. He was confident that he could deal with the occasional horny thought as long as he was permitted to remain at Noct’s side – he didn’t _need_ any more. It was a better arrangement than he could have hoped for merely one year ago; one he was content with.

Or so he thought.

***

Love is one selfish bitch. Prompto tried to shove the thought aside as he faked a broad grin. He had managed to stick to Noct all the way through high school and they were as close as ever. All this time, Prompto had performed pretty damn well, if he might say so himself. He hadn’t made things awkward (at least if he didn’t count the little missteps that – on Noct’s part - were forgotten as soon as they had occurred). That he sometimes couldn’t help himself but to gape at his friend with dreamy eyes when nobody was watching or that no other human being had caught his attention in quite the same way yet, even if he tried to convince himself and everybody else otherwise – these facts had become no more than another aspect of his daily life. A state of being, so to speak. Not essentially a bad one. Sometimes a bit awkward, yes. Occasionally unnerving since it was another point on his _Things that Noct should never ever learn about me_ -list, sure. But not bad.

That had changed though. In the exact moment as the prince, his face stuck somewhere between badly hidden embarrassment, careful detachment and something Prompto could not quite identify, had told him of the grand plans that had been laid for his future.

_It seems like he’s gonna marry his princess after all._

Prompto had seen it coming. It was only logical, and Noct didn’t seem all that displeased with the prospect, even if it hadn’t quite sunken in yet. Yes, of course Prompto had seen it coming. Just not that it would happen so soon. Or that it would be so damn painful.

He had tried to convince himself that he didn’t lay any claims on his friend – he didn’t have the _right_ to, after all. But his heart wouldn’t let itself be convinced by something like logic. So, he hid behind a big fat fake smile and a far too enthusiastic ‘Way to go, buddy!’, while he simultaneously asked himself when he had become such a jealous piece of shit. Because he was pretty sure that the bad taste in his mouth was sizzling, raging jealousy rising in his throat like bile. He was genuinely surprised at himself. Partly because he felt nothing but respect for Lady Lunafreya, along with a deep gratitude for her causing him to get himself on track and to become friends with Noct. All in all, he couldn’t really find it in his heart to hold the whole betrothal thing against her. Partly because his obsession with the prince (it hadn’t turned out to be a pubertal whim after all) had become such a normal part of their relationship that he had stopped giving it any real thought until the sudden announcement had ripped it all open like a festering wound.

But he was Noct’s best friend and talking shit about your best friend’s betrothal – or just not looking all that happy with the same – was a big no-no. That was why he clenched his teeth and indulged himself in playing the role of the excited wingman. If need be, he would be persuasive enough that even he himself wouldn’t doubt his sincerity anymore. And he _was_ happy for the two of them, really. He didn’t even need to fool himself on that one. After all, he wanted Noct to be happy, and marrying someone important to him who also happened to be one of the most beautiful women on Eos had to be a step in that direction, right?

If only love weren’t such a selfish bitch.

***

It all went to hell after that. Prompto didn’t really have time to dwell on his feelings about the impending wedding, since they were caught in an ever-growing maelstrom of bad luck from the moment they left Insomnia. The time before that had been hard too, of course. He had been so proud that Noct wanted him to come to Altissia, to be part of one of the most important moments of his life. The secret wish that he could just follow the ceremony on TV or something from his own room where no one could see him moping paled in comparison. Still, it was hard. Not just the last-second combat training that he was convinced was designed to killed him. Not all the preparations that had to be made in record time, the things he had to pack… There was also the fact that suddenly, there weren’t just Noct and himself anymore. Their interactions had become much more public than they had been, at least to the people at the Citadel - and of course most importantly to Ignis and Gladio. Prompto had met both of them before, maybe even formed something like the beginning of a friendship with them. But having them around all the time meant that he had started to be much more conscious about how he acted around Noct. Wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea. Or worse - the entirely right idea. But the hardest thing about it all was to keep himself from wondering just how different things would be once they got back.

All of this was forgotten once Ignis entered their motel room at Galdin Quay with a newspaper in his hand and the worst possible expression on his face. Things like jealousy and unspoken feelings didn’t matter when their home was burning on the horizon. Yet it _did_ matter in the most painful way when they were standing on the hill overlooking Insomnia not long after. Because he was looking down at the shambles that had been his home for as long as he could remember, and it hurt; but at least he hadn’t left anything of much value behind. The ones most important to him were still right at his side. But Noct had lost so much, and Prompto wanted nothing more than to hold his thin, trembling form in his arms to provide what comfort he could. He wanted to run a hand through the raven hair and whisper some meaningless words in his ear like _I’m here with you, it’s going to be all right._

But he stood frozen on the spot behind the self-erected wall that he had sworn to never trespass. He had thought that he knew about the misery a secret love could bring about. As it turned out, he’d had no idea.

***

Weirdly enough, things went back to normal after that. Being on a road trip from hell with their home ablaze, a bounty on their heads and a creepy imperial chancellor on their asses didn’t exactly count as normal – but his friendship with Noct did. There were good days when it felt as if they were just on a vacation with the boys, passing their time with silly nonsense and casually picking at each other in good humour. Yes, having Ignis and Gladio around all the time could be a bit unnerving – Ignis in particular, the guy seemed to be able to read people’s thoughts as easily as mere mortals did with books – but he could hang out with his best friend and simply be happy. He might even have the mind to find himself in a motel bathroom or any other area that offered a minimum of privacy, a hand stuffed down his pants and indulging in a moment of thoughts running wild. There had been a lot of _one-time slip ups_ since high school, and by now, he was pretty good at playing down the awkwardness of looking Noct in the eyes after.

There were also bad days. The days when he cursed the self-inflicted rules that forbade him to stick even closer to his friend, to assure him that he would never leave his side, no matter what. The encounter with the Archean. Returning to Lestallum to find out that the Empire had paid a visit while they had been gone. The disaster in Altissia and the weeks after that…

It wasn’t until he was on his way to Gralea on his own - not until after Ardyn had figuratively flayed him alive in uncovering his secrets, stripping his flesh from his bones and scattering his insides in the snow for him to put it all back together – that he thought that this just wouldn’t do. The terror he had felt during those awful moments on the train to Tenebrae, the fear and the doubts and the loneliness that had followed – he never wanted to feel something like this again. The realisation that he couldn’t go on like this had been strangely liberating. He hadn’t even noticed how much all those secrets had weighed on him, how heavy the perpetual fear of being discovered had really felt. And for the first time he thought that maybe he _deserved_ to be free of that. He deserved to know if his friends would accept him – all of him.

And since he was about to start spilling everything he had been hiding until now, he might as well go all the way. Noct and him had grown so close during their travels – maybe not _brothers_ as Cid had put it (because that would make things far too awkward), but something more than just good buddies from school. Maybe it was selfish. But even if his friend didn’t share his feelings, even if a confession wouldn’t allow him to break down the invisible wall between them - at least Noct would know that there was no way in hell Prompto would ever leave his side. Therefore, he had to tell him.

And he very nearly did. Because seeing Noct again inside Zegnautus keep – coming for him, rescuing him – felt so damn good. He was close to blurting it out right then and there, inside the cold concrete cell, in front of their friends. But he didn’t, because there were other, more important things he had to tell the three of them first – as soon as he could work up the guts. Also, a daemon-infested enemy fortress wasn’t the best place for an emotional heart-to-heart. Therefore, he kept silent.

And then, Noct was gone.

Ten years of darkness followed.

Ten years of loneliness and waiting. Ten years in which Prompto swore one thing to himself: When Noct returned, he would never let go of him again. When Noct returned, he would tell him.

When Noct returned, he kept silent. Just for a little while. Because the moment of him returning belonged to all four of them, not just Prompto. Because as glad as they all were to be back together, they had to get accustomed to each other again. Because he could still tell him when they made a last camp only a few miles before reaching Insomnia. He had it all planned out. More or less. He had no idea what to actually say, but he had already done a fairly good job envisioning how he would get there. He only had to take Noct with him for a little stroll away from the campfire and prying eyes and ears. Easy.

Then Noct dropped the bomb before he could ever get this far.

After that, if wouldn’t have been fair _._ He had gone over every outcome his confession could bring about, and neither the best nor the worst nor anything in between was something he could put Noct through in what would be one of their last moments together - ever. Therefore, Prompto kept silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you forgive me that this whole chapter is basically just narration, since it covers a long period of time. But please bear with me, because in the future there will actually be something like dialogue and stuff *gasp*. Also the story will move past the canon of the game.   
> Hope you had fun reading and come back for more in the next chapter!


	2. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no telling what is worse: Seeing the end coming - or realising that the world still keeps spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the tragedy - because I'm a terrible human being that enjoys writing tragedy. But it gets better, I promise.

It all felt so unreal. The moment they walked up to the stairs in front of the Citadel, it didn’t feel like the last time the four of them would walk together. The moment Noct climbed the steps, leaving them behind, it didn’t feel like he would never come back.

‘No turning back now’, Prompto murmured - more to himself than to anyone else, an attempt to grasp the reality of the situation.

Somewhere in his mind, a small voice kept telling him that everything would be fine. It always was in the end, wasn’t it?

He couldn’t fathom how the others seemed to know exactly what to do, what to say to make this moment _count._ How Noct found the words to send them off with both the composure of a king and the warmth of a friend. How Ignis and Gladio knew to bow in a final show of loyalty and pride and deep respect. That he was almost too absorbed in his own feelings to join them, to seize this one last opportunity to express what was in his heart, even just a tiny little fraction of it – it felt like just another failure. The weight of the moment pressed down on him and made it feel unbearably hard to raise his lowered head again, to catch one last glimpse of his friend’s back. It felt so unreal. It felt unreal because in the end, everything would be fine. It always was.

The daemons didn’t give him any more opportunities to dwell on his thoughts. Time swam away as he fought, only one goal in mind – to protect the Citadel, to protect what precious thing now lay within. To protect the hope of the world. To protect his friend, for as long as he could. Until the very end. As he had promised.

A shockwave of light erupted from the heart of the Citadel. It was not a physical force; he could only see the bright halo expanding around them, washing away the daemons in a mere heartbeat. His eyes, accustomed to ten long years of darkness, filled with tears at the impact of the piercing rays of white. Then he realised that he could breathe freely again. He had never noticed how heavy the air had felt during the long night – heavy with the black miasma the daemons had spread through the atmosphere. Now the air seemed as clear as on an early winter morning. Slowly, Prompto lowered his gun and stared at the now deserted plaza. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to the brim with this new, light air. Gladio and Ignis had stilled in their movements as well, taking in the change of scenery.

‘Look’, Prompto whispered, his voice full of awe. Gladio looked up, following his gaze to the night sky. The sickly green hue they had grown accustomed to was gone. Instead, the skies presented themselves in velvety black, littered with a myriad of silver stars. A shaky breath escaped Prompto’s lips in the face of their beauty.

‘So… it’s over.’

Ignis’ calm voice, barely audible, slammed him back into reality. _This is it,_ he thought, disconnected. _It’s over. He’s gone._

As if on a silent signal, the three of them turned around to look at the unwavering walls of the Citadel. There was nothing, no light, no destruction, no movement, nothing to hint at the monumental triumph (the world-shattering tragedy) that had just occurred. Nothing to tell of the fate that had befallen the person inside.

Prompto felt hollow. After Noct had told them about the price that was due to save their world, he had been angry at the gods, the universe and destiny. He had grieved, he had sorrowfully accepted what had to be done. He had steeled himself for the moment when he had to let his friend go to his doom. But in the end, all he had done was go through the motions. His mind had refused to fully grasp the idea that his friend would be _gone,_ his existence erased, just like that. There was no way to imagine something like that. And now he was standing here, and it still felt unreal. As if any second, Noct would walk down the stairs with a tired but triumphant smile, scoffing at Prompto for singing his silly victory tune.

‘ _We’re done here’_ , he heard him say. Mission over. Time to go to bed. Maybe a round of King’s Knight, a delicious homecooked meal from Ignis and then sleep until Gladio shook them awake at noon.

The white walls of the Citadel remained silent.

‘We should go.’

Prompto tore his eyes off the deserted entrance at the end of the stairs and stared at Ignis in numb confusion. ‘Go?’, he echoed. His voice felt as if he hadn’t used it in years.

‘To the throne room’, Gladio answered. The shield stood still as a statue, frozen as if he feared that once he let just a single muscle twitch out of place, he would break down and never get himself up again. ‘We can’t leave him there.’

_Leave him? Leave who? He’s gone. He’s not there anymore._

Then it dawned on him. They went to collect their king’s corpse. The notion was so strange, so alien that it took him a while to comprehend. He had thought that he could keep Noct in memory as he had last seen him – walking up the stairs with determination, his shoulders relaxed and his head held high. To envision him as a lifeless body to be picked up like some cast away doll made him sick to his stomach. Knowing that Noct was gone and knowing he was _dead_ were two very different things, separated by a whole world of pain.

‘I…’ He wasn’t sure what to say. The words were stuck in his throat. _I can’t do it. Please don’t make me do it._

He looked at his friends, their faces stoic and determined. But he knew them well enough to see that they were holding themselves up by a thread. A thin, brittle thread of duty and responsibility. He had no thread. He didn’t come here out of duty. He had nothing.

‘Would you rather have him hauled away by some Glaive he never met? He deserves better than that.’ Gladio’s words were fierce, but his carefully maintained façade didn’t budge. Prompto lowered his head, his cheeks burning with shame.

_Right. I owe it to him._

He drew in a deep shaky breath and took a step forward. It was like the first step into a cold lake. He felt the water crashing over his head.

‘Right behind you.’

***

The walk to the throne room was torture. Prompto didn’t want to imagine what they would find there, but he couldn’t stop his mind from conjuring picture after picture, each more gruesome than the last. Somewhere, in some small, cruel corner of his mind, there was the hope that the magic blast had just evaporated Noct’s body, turned him into dust, so he would be able to remember him alive and whole after all. He would hate himself for that thought for a long time to come.

The door to the throne room was open. Prompto was grateful for that – to disturb the heavy silence that filled the Citadel seemed unbearable to him.

They walked through the richly adorned portals. And then they saw it.

For a moment it seemed as if the king was merely sitting on his throne to greet them. Prompto kept walking, unable to grasp what he saw. Then his feet came to a halt on their own as he was finally close enough to take everything in.

Noct’s body was slumped on the chair, his legs sprawled, arms hanging down. The only thing holding him upright was his father’s sword piercing his chest, the blade running so deep that it pinned him to the back of the throne like a dead butterfly. His head hung down and a curtain of jet-black hair veiled his face. Prompto believed to hear the nearly inaudible _plop_ as a drop of dark, viscous blood fell from the slightly parted lips and landed in the puddle that spread slowly around the throne. The sound seemed to echo between the sky-high walls of the room like thunder.

‘What do you see?’

Ignis’s voice was wavering. Prompto opened his mouth, but he managed only a gagging sound as he felt the bile rising in his throat. Behind him, Gladio ground his teeth, the knuckles of his balled fists white under the skin.

‘Please. Tell me.’

The calm plea was almost more than Prompto could bear. But what was one more hole in your heart when you were standing in front of the mutilated corpse that had once been your friend?

Thankfully, Gladio was able to find his voice.

‘It’s… not pretty’, he said hoarsely.

‘Tell me.’

Prompto did not wait to hear what words the shield might find to give voice to the horror. Step by step, as if drawn by invisible strings, he walked up the stairs to the throne, his mind blank. Some details made their way to his consciousness as he approached the body – the ring was gone, the cursed ring that had done all of this to his friend, _his first friend, his first love._ The skin where it had been was marred by a deep burn mark. More burns like the ones on Ignis’s face covered Noct’s right hand and disappeared under a tattered sleeve, only to reappear on his collarbone, stretching all the way across his cheeks. The tiniest draft of air played with the dark strands of hair.

Prompto froze. He could not take his eyes off this small movement that seemed so strange, so out of place.

‘Ah… guys?’ His voice trembled so much he could barely form the words.

‘I… I think…’

He didn’t know when Gladio had appeared behind him, only that he was there now, kneeling down in front of the throne, oblivious to the blood soaking through his pants. The shield’s expression was horrifying as he reached out and carefully pushed back the dark curtain of hair that still hid Noct’s face. A ragged gasp shook his body.

‘He’s still breathing’, he hissed between his teeth.

He cupped Noct’s face with his huge hands and gently lifted his chin. Prompto could feel the sight like a punch in the gut. Noct’s face was slack, his expression blank. But his half-closed eyes were _aware_ \- and glazed over with pain, unable to fix on anything in front of him. Now that Gladio held his face in his hands and kept calling his name some clarity returned to those eyes, followed by an all-consuming fear. The king that had gone to fulfil his destiny had vanished, and he had left behind a broken and terrified man with the question in his eyes how all of this could have happened to him. The blood stained lips twitched, trying to form words or maybe just a scream and Prompto wanted to shut it out, shut out the sight of those blue eyes, blackened with pain and fear, burning themselves into his brain; shut out the wet rattling sound as Noct gasped for air only to convulse as the slight movement did nothing but torture him even more.

He had come to the Citadel to bid Noct a silent farewell and to have his back until the very end. Then he had come even further to bring home whatever was left of him, wherever _home_ was. Now he was here to watch his friend die right in front of his eyes.

He did not know how he managed to pull himself out of his paralysis, but the next thing he _did_ know was that he was kneeling beside the throne along with Gladio, his hand on Noct’s shoulder. To reassure him, but also to keep him from harming himself even more in his panic.

‘Hey buddy, it’s all right, we’re right here, it’s going to be fine.’

Meaningless words tumbled from his lips; but they seemed to help, if just a small bit.

From the corner of his eye he saw Ignis standing behind them, his arms hanging down helplessly, his face distorted with the agony of being unable to help, unable to do as much as _see_ what was going on in front of him. It didn’t matter. Prompto's attention was on his friend, on keeping the steady stream of soothing words flowing. If the only thing he could do was to make sure Noct didn't feel alone right now, he would give it his all.

‘Noct.’ Gladio’s voice interrupted Prompo’s rambling. The shoulders under the inked feathers were taut. He repeated the name until the blue eyes focused on him with all the concentration they could muster.

‘Listen. You have to dispel the sword. Can you do that?’

The blue eyes wavered just a bit, trying to stay focused.

‘It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but we can’t help you unless you dispel the sword. You got that?’

He almost laughed. The humourless, desperate sound sat right there in the back of his throat waiting to pass his lips. How could they think that what had happened to Noct was just something to be _fixed_ like a scratched knee or a broken arm? There was so much blood, and his face was so pale, so terribly pale… He wanted to tell them that they were only asking to be tortured further as they held out that last fragile little hope. They had experienced so much pain already - wasn't it enough? He couldn't take any more. He didn't want to take any more. But he clenched his teeth and swallowed the bitter laugh.

Because all of this didn’t matter.

 _C’mon, you can do it,_ he told himself. _Be strong. Just this once. For Noct._

He could deal with his own emotions later. Noct was more important right now.

He gave him a small encouraging squeeze with the hand that still rested on his shoulder.

‘You can do it, buddy.’

For a moment – or an eternity – they held their breaths. Noct’s eyes floated around aimlessly - for such a long time that Prompto began to doubt he had even heard Gladio’s words at all. But then, the sword lit up with cold white light and disappeared in millions of bright sparks. Noct slumped forwards, not able to keep his body upright on his own. Gladio caught him against his broad chest and Prompto heard the familiar sound as a Phoenix Down shattered in the other man's hand. Then again, as Ignis used another potion. And another.

Prompto couldn’t watch. He couldn’t. He avoided his eyes, too afraid of what he might see – and that was how he noticed them. They were standing around them in a wide circle, as if holding a silent vigil. Their glowing translucent bodies were barely more than a flicker of light, a contortion of the air, that dim had their presence grown. For a moment all Prompto could think was that they had come to welcome the last of their line into their ranks and guide him to the afterlife. Why else would the kings of Lucis appear once again after all was said and done? But then, his eyes fell on the one that was standing closest to them. His face was hidden but there was something familiar about him, and it wasn’t just the sword with the winged hilt he was holding in his hands. Prompto could _feel_ the smile on King Regis’s face as his form dissolved into thin air along with the others. There was only the tiniest trace of light left where they had stood, a light that seemed to flow towards the throne and then simply – vanished. Prompto whipped his head around just in time to see Gladio gently lowering Noct’s body to the ground. He almost didn’t dare to breathe as he studied his friend’s face. The blue eyes were closed, his face still and white as death – but if he looked closely, he believed to see the soft afterglow of that ghostly white light under his skin.

‘H– how is he?’, he finally managed to ask.

‘He’s alive’, Gladio sighed. The shield closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to collect himself.

‘We need to bring him out of here and get him in medical care as soon as possible’, Ignis said. There was still a strain in his voice, but he had found some of his composure again.

‘There should be more potions and stuff at the Glaive’s basecamp, right? Gotta be.’ Prompto looked at the other’s faces, searching for affirmation or maybe just a sliver of hope. None of them dared to think about the possibility that they had merely been granted a period of grace before Noct’s bill would inevitably come due – or rather that they had to suffer the ultimate torture in watching their friend die a slow and painful death without being able to save him after all. Gladio lifted Noct up as if he was made from thin glass.

‘Let’s go then.’


	3. A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sunrise always brings new hope.

The sun was rising over Insomnia. The bright colours on the horizon were so beautiful that Prompto still had to stop and marvel at them every time he saw them. It would take time to get accustomed to something like sunrises and -sets after ten years of perpetual night. The sun still seemed much too bright, but he refused to wear shades like a lot of people did now, refused to miss even the tiniest bit of light.

‘Look at that, buddy. Picture-perfect.’

He turned around as if the one he talked to would actually answer. But he was lying in bed as still as he had been for the last two weeks, ever since they had found him in the throne room of the Citadel.

Prompto sighed at Noct’s pale unmoved face. Sometimes he could almost fool himself into thinking that he was just taking a nap as he had done so often. But then he would look at the burn marks on his face and his arm and at the bandages covering the huge sword wound in his chest that should have killed him if any laws of nature were involved.

‘C’mon sleepyhead, time to wake up’, he murmured, the cheerful tone only a shadow of what it normally was. He sat down heavily on the chair next to the bed. Iris had come over only a few days after the dawn. She had sat at Noct’s side, holding his hand, tears running down her cheeks. It had felt strange that she was crying when hope was the only thing worth holding on to. Watching her had also brought back the bitter tang of jealousy in the back of his throat. Not jealousy for Noct’s affection – there was no reason for that now – but for her ability to admit her feelings like that without caring what anyone else might think of it. It was unfair, and it stirred up a whole decade of regret. He was tired of it. Getting older had never meant much to him, but damn, did he ever feel it right now.

‘You know’, he started in a low voice, his hands fidgeting nervously, ‘there is something I wanted to tell you. I have for quite some time now and… it’s kinda important. So, it would be really great if you could get your ass out of bed before I get the jitters and forget what I wanted to say.’

He managed a tired chuckle. He kept watching Noct’s face for a while longer, as if his friend could open his eyes any moment. Of course, nothing happened. The strained but steady rise and fall of his chest was the only proof that he was still alive. Prompto let himself fall against the backrest of the chair and propped his legs up on the mattress, settling in for another long day of waiting.

***

Prompto stumbled through a forest. Gentle golden rays of sunlight fell through the leaves and danced on the soft moss. Birds were singing. It was peaceful, but he was not at rest. He was searching for something. Someone. Noct.

He spun around aimlessly in a circle – how would he ever find his friend in this endless hall of trees? There was nothing to indicate his presence, just the branches rustling over his head, the sound of a stream burbling along over rocky ground... Prompto smiled. Of course.

He followed the sound until he found the water running between the tree roots, clear as glass. After a while, he reached a clearing with a small but deep pond in the middle. On one of the rocks at the water’s edge sat a dark-clad figure holding a fishing rod.

‘Noct!’

There was a laughter in Prompto’s voice as he ran across the clearing towards his friend. Noct looked young, all spikey hair and long bangs hiding bright blue eyes, his face not yet marred by time and the ring’s magic. Prompto skidded to a halt next to him and clapped him on the shoulder. He felt warm and solid and alive.

‘Shush!’ Noct raised a finger to his lips. ‘You’ll scare away the fish.’

A giggle rose in Prompto’s throat because this was so _real,_ but he gave his best to contain it. Instead, he sat down next to his friend as quietly as he could, watching the water lapping against the rocks and the sun dancing on its surface.

It seemed like an eternity until he asked: ‘Sooo… when are we going back?’

Noct raised his head slowly and turned to look at him for the first time. He seemed like someone who had not quite awoken yet from a long, deep slumber.

‘Back?’, he asked.

‘You know… back to the others. To Insomnia.’

There was a crease between Noct’s brows as he seemed to ponder the question in deep thought. Then he turned back towards the pond.

‘Nah, I’m good here.’

‘Wha…’ Prompto blinked in confusion. ‘What do you mean? Don’t you wanna go back?’

‘I haven’t caught anything yet.’

The blonde looked at the pond, its water so clear that he could see every stone at its ground.

‘Noct… there are no fish in there.’

Noct looked up again, but he made no attempt to move from his spot.

‘Doesn’t matter. I like it here.’

‘But… the guys… we’re all waiting for you’, Prompto sputtered.

With a ‘tsk’ Noct finally stood up, dispelling the fishing rod. He waved Prompto closer with an impatient gesture, then pointed at the pond. ‘You see that?’

Prompto did. The water’s surface had grown dark. It showed a picture, distorted like through an old mirror, but still clear enough to recognize. It was Noct, older and bearded, sitting on the throne with a sword piercing his body. Blood dripped from his lips and pooled around his feet. Burn marks, still glowing like embers embedded in his skin, stretched across his arm and face and ate away at his flesh.

‘That’s me’, the younger Noct at Prompto’s side said quietly. He tipped against his temple. ‘I can still feel it, somewhere. It’s growing weaker though - I can almost ignore it now, but not quite. Not yet.’

He looked Prompto in the eye and now he seemed awake - awake but immeasurably tired. ‘So, what exactly is it I should go back to?’

The blonde stared at the scene in front of him. It caused a painful tug at his heart, but still - something was not quite right about this.

‘I did everything that was asked of me’, Noct continued through gritted teeth, the familiar tremble of barely concealed frustration in his voice. ‘And now for the first time, I have some peace. Why would I want to return to this…’ He gestured towards the scene in the pond ‘…this _hell_?’

_No, that’s not right._

‘That’s not right’, Prompto said out loud. ‘Look.’

As he pointed, the scene in the water was changing. It was still Noct, quiet and pale. He was lying in bed in a sparsely furnished room. Bandages covering his arm and torso were showing under his shirt. Gladio was standing in the corner, talking on his phone, glancing back at Noct every now and then. Prompto was slouching on a chair right next to the bed, head tipped back and mouth wide open, snoring to his heart’s content. His feet were propped up on the mattress.

Ignis came in, carrying a stack of papers. Gladio put away his phone and went over to the sleeping Prompto, tipping back his chair until it fell and only catching it right before it could crash to the floor. The blonde jerked awake and almost hit his head as he scrambled away from the laughing shield, angrily muttering under his breath while Ignis shook his head at the both of them.

In the forest, Prompto risked a glance at Noct’s face. There was a tiny fond smile playing around his friend’s lips.

‘See? It’s not so bad with us, is it?’, Prompto teased. When there was no answer, he turned around with a sigh. ‘Anyway, I’ll be on my way. Wouldn’t miss out on Iggy’s dinner.’

‘Huh?’ Noct looked up with a confused frown.

‘You can always come by if you want to.’ The blonde raised his hands as Noct seemed to scramble for words. ‘Hey, it’s cool. No pressure. No need to do what others want you to anymore, right?’

He started strolling towards the wall of trees surrounding the clearing, leaving Noct standing at the pond by himself. At the last moment, he turned around one more time as if a new thought had just crossed his mind.

‘Just wanted to remind you of that promise you gave me – you know, the one no one _expected_ you to make, that you came up with aaall by yourself?’

_I’m gonna make this world a better place. You with me?_

Noct opened his mouth, but Prompto had already turned back towards the trees, one hand raised in a casual wave as he dived into the shadows between the trunks. ‘See ya, bro.’

And then he was gone. The clearing was silent once more. Quiet. Peaceful.

Never before had peace felt so lonely.

***

Prompto awoke with a start. The light outside the window was slowly growing dim, indicating the coming evening. He stretched his limbs that had grown numb from sleeping on a chair for hours, careful not to disturb the person lying in the bed next to him – not that Noct would have noticed if he had. Prompto shook his head and rubbed his eyes, as if he could somehow get rid of the strange dream he’d had.

When his gaze dropped, he jumped in surprise. Umbra was sitting at his feet, observing him with calm knowing eyes.

‘H- Hey there, buddy’, Prompto said, voice slightly shaky. He gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. Satisfied, Umbra turned around and trotted out of the room. Just a moment later, Ignis’s head peeked through the door.

‘Was that Umbra?’, he asked.

‘Uh, yeah’, Prompto answered, head still fuzzy from sleep. ‘I didn’t even know he was here.’

Ignis hummed in thought. Then he inclined his head in the blonde’s direction, his equivalent of fixating him with a gaze. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, all good.’ Ignis didn’t seem satisfied, so he added ‘Just had a strange dream, that’s all.’

The other man nodded and retreated to the small kitchen where something delicious was sizzling on the stove and filling the apartment with its scent. It smelled like fish - Ignis kept cooking Noct’s favourites as if he wanted to be prepared for the case that his charge woke up and sat down with them at the dinner table as if nothing had happened. Prompto sighed and looked down at his friend’s pale face. The burns on his cheeks had healed to fresh scars, but his breath was still laboured and shallow and there were dark veins visible under his paper-thin skin. He looked fragile and sick.

Prompto tore his eyes away from the bed and sniffed the air as if he had to convince someone that there was nothing on his mind apart from his excitement for dinner. ‘Yep, grilled Barramundi.’ He looked back at his friend and gently nudged his shoulder. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’

He was helping Ignis to set the table in the other room – in the first few days they had always eaten crowded inside Noct’s room, anxious to let him out of their sight for just a moment; but at some point Ignis had insisted on them taking up something like a normal routine – as Gladio returned.

‘Anything happened?’, the shield asked, as if he hadn’t been the one patrolling through a city in shambles, sniffing out imperial stragglers.

‘Nothing in particular’, Ignis answered as he filled three plates, his hands as steady and precise as if he could see what he was doing. ‘The doctor came by some time ago. She said his condition is stable, but unchanging.’

Gladio let himself fall on one of the chairs around the dinner table, scratching the back of his head. ‘Well, it’s something, isn’t it?’, he murmured without much conviction.

‘It’s much more than we could have hoped for’, Ignis softly reprimanded him for his tone. ‘That he is alive at all is a miracle.’

Gladio just grunted and pulled his plate closer to him, unceremoniously starting to shovel food in his mouth.

‘How’s it looking out there?’, Prompto asked hesitantly.

The shield shrugged, but his face didn’t seem as grim as Prompto had feared.

‘It’s gonna take a hell of a long time just to clear the rubble from the streets so we can start with construction. But no signs of daemons yet and most of the MTs have shut down, too. City’s mostly safe by now.’

Prompto nodded. The view he had from the apartment in the outskirts of Isomnia was depressing, but calm. They couldn’t have brought themselves to leave the Crown City again so shortly after winning it back. Besides – Lestallum would have been the only other viable option, but it was hopelessly overcrowded and they had feared that the long journey would do Noct more harm than good. Therefore, after the return of the sun two weeks ago, they had settled in an intact building in one of the residential areas of the city. The houses in this area were mostly undamaged and, more importantly, the looming presence of the Citadel and the throne within wasn’t felt as heavily here. The Kingsglaive and what remained of the Crownsguard had expanded their supply routes into the city and set up patrols, making them as safe here as anywhere else in this world that had just started to recover. 

Prompto picked at his food without much appetite, even though it looked and smelled as mouth-watering as ever. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how Ignis had come by fresh fish – there wasn’t exactly a wide range of provisions available at the moment, even if a surprising amount of people had begun to flock to the Crown City to help with the rebuilding effort.

A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he looked up – only for his eyes to grow as big as his plate and his jaw to crash to the floor. Ignis seemed to feel the change in atmosphere and raised his head. Gladio picked up on Prompto’s expression and turned around with a suspicious look on his face, then froze on the spot.

Noct was standing in the door. He was hunched over, his good hand gripping the doorframe for the support his unsteady legs would not give him. His face was taut with the effort of staying on his feet, but he still somehow managed a crooked smile at their incredulous expressions.

‘Hey guys.’

He took another step into the room, but his legs buckled under him and with a hiss of pain, he toppled over. Gladio caught him before he could crash to the ground.

‘Easy there.’ The shield pulled him up and helped him get to the unoccupied chair, more carrying than supporting him.

‘Noct? How are you feeling? Are you all right?’ Ignis asked, hesitantly reaching out in the other man’s direction. Even though every small movement seemed to exhaust him, Noct raised his hand to squeeze his friend’s arm reassuringly. Then he stared at the table for a long while, until he swallowed and said weakly ‘No, actually… I’m starving.’

There was a common breath of relief around the table. Ignis chuckled softly. ‘I believe I can remedy that.’

As the advisor rummaged through the kitchen, Prompto realized that he was still holding his fork in the air, halfway to his mouth. He quickly sat it down on the table and slipped closer to Noct. He had the sudden urge to touch him and make sure he wouldn't crumble to dust under his hands; he wanted to crush him in a hug and never let him go. There was a warm ball of excitement bouncing up and down in his stomach and making it difficult not to jump up and dance around the room, but at the same time he felt on the verge of collapsing onto the table in a mess of tears. In the end, he did neither. Instead he sought the least possible distance and settled for Gladio’s chair - the shield was still standing, prepared to catch his charge again should his strength leave him.

‘Damn, buddy, it’s good to see you’, he choked out. The words weren’t enough to express what was going on inside him by a long shot, but he would have to make do with them. 

‘Well, I couldn’t just leave you hanging.’ Noct’s voice sounded raspy and strained. Prompto tried to memorize every detail about it.

‘I mean - we made a promise, right?’

The blonde blinked taken aback, but in that instance Ignis set down a plate in front of them and the conversation was cut short. Noct seemed to steel himself as he reached for his fork, only to drop it again with a hiss as the bandaged fingers of his hand spasmed. He avoided the other’s eyes as he lowered his trembling right hand again and took up the cutlery with his left instead, his motions awkward.

Prompto figured that staring was not a big help, so without further ado he pulled his own plate across the table towards himself and with an enthusiastic ‘Let’s dig in!’, he did just that. Thankfully Ignis followed his example with only Gladio left standing in the background, not willing to leave his protective position. Which was probably a good thing, since Noct seemed dangerously close to passing out from the effort of chewing. His movements were slow and concentrated; but between bites, he paused long enough to shoot Prompto a telling glance, a small thankful smile on his lips. The blonde answered with a smirk and a wink before he returned to his plate. There was still the pain of the last draining weeks and years aching somewhere in the back of his mind like an old bruise; but right now, all of that felt… unreal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small side note concerning the dream sequence at the beginning of this chapter: In case you're wondering what exactly happened there, I have no idea. Normally I like to be able to explain what happenes in my stories (ideally in some way that fits the lore), but in this case the scene just popped into my head while I was writing and I felt like it would fit well in here. Whether it was just a dream or divine intervention or whatnot is really open for interpretation.
> 
> Also: We now made it past the tragedy part and will return to the actual Promptis in the next chapter! Woohoo!


	4. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One decade should be enough to prepare for anything. The only problem: it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkwardness and emotional drama ahead. I was also really tired when editing this, so I hope it turned out alright.

Prompto was almost too caught up in feeling all fuzzy and light like a feather whenever he looked at his friend moving around and talking and _breathing_ to acknowledge the thought buzzing in the back of his mind like a trapped fly.

_I’ll tell him. Any day now. I swore that I would tell him._

At some point he couldn't ignore it anymore. That's how he found himself sitting in the kitchen – Ignis and Gladio were out meeting with the Crownsguard and Noct was sleeping next door - and thinking about what the hell he could possibly say.

_Hey buddy, it’s nice that you’re alive and all, but listen – I’ve kinda been thinking about you when jerking off since high school. Thought you should know that._

Of course that wouldn’t do, especially since what he wanted to say was so much more along the lines of _I want to be your best friend but I also want to be allowed to hold you when you are sad and to tell you that you are smart and strong and that you got this and I want to be there to greet you in the morning so you never have to wake up feeling lonely and I want to be the first one you look to when things get bad even if I can’t do anything but be there for you and I want you to know that I will never ever leave your side._

But that was so cheesy he might get stuck in it and there was no way in hell these words would ever pass his lips. But if the last decade had taught him anything, it was that waiting around for an inspiration to talk about his feelings didn’t pay off and the additional time that had been granted to them might as well be an illusion. Therefore, he would have to man up and talk to Noct. He would have to set himself a deadline to find the right words first though, because otherwise he would just be a bumbling mess and ruin everything.

In that moment he heard a ‘Guys?’ coming from the other room, causing him to sprint through the door so fast that he almost tripped over his own feet. Noct was just sitting up in bed, pulling a face and reaching for his chest as he did. Prompto knew it frustrated him to no end that the potions and everything else they had tried hadn’t taken care of his wounds completely, though they had somewhat sped up the healing process. But the progress he had already made despite this was impressive, even if it didn’t feel like that to him.

‘Mornin’ sunshine’, Prompto greeted him with a wide grin. ‘How are we feeling today?’

Noct yawned and scratched at the bandages on his right arm. ‘Not too bad, I guess? Where are the others?’

‘Got work to do. Crownsguard stuff and all that. But Iggy left you something in the fridge if you’re hungry.’

Noct chuckled. ‘So here I am, supposedly thirty years old, and Specs is still acting like my mother.’

Prompto snickered. ‘You know you'd miss it.’

Half an hour later, they were sitting at the kitchen table together, Noct finishing his meal - he still had to use his left hand since the right kept acting up, being plagued by uncontrolled tremors - and Prompto browsing through the photos of the last days he got on his camera. There were a lot, even for his standards. There was so much to see and to remember – every sunrise seemed more spectacular than the last, the light he was still getting used to transformed everyday sights in magical moments. And Noct of course, every little improvement a victory that brought him closer to his old self. Choosing the best shots wouldn’t be an easy task. That was why Prompto was so absorbed he almost dropped the camera in shock as Noct casually asked: ‘Is there something you want to get off your chest?’

Prompto was pretty sure his mouth hung open wider and his heart started hammering faster than a simple question like that would justify. But he hardly realised how weird his reaction might look.

_Did he hear me? No no, he was unconscious. Great, another mind reader. As if Iggy wasn’t enough… Damn. Here it comes._

Noct raised his hands in apology as he picked up on his friend’s distress.

‘Sorry. You just haven’t changed all that much - you still have the same expression when you want to say something but don’t know how.’

_Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. Big stinking pile of Chocobo shit._

He still had no idea what to say in the slightest – he had wanted to prepare for this, to find the perfect words (or at least words that weren’t completely stupid). Whatever good a few more days would do him after ten years. But on the other hand – if he backed out now, would he ever manage to make a move again on his own?

The answer was _probably not._

And that was that.

‘So… uh. Yeah.’

_Great start._

Noct watched him with sincere curiosity. He wasn’t the most patient guy under the best circumstances, but Prompto guessed that he was used to his rambling by now and wouldn’t get annoyed too fast. Which was good, because this would take a while.

‘You see, I… What I wanted to tell you…Shit.’

His friend’s gaze didn’t grow annoyed, but his eyebrows moved just a bit higher each time Prompto stumbled over his words.

‘Well, I’ve kinda… wanted to tell you for some time, and…uh…’

‘Prompto.’

Noct interrupted him gently, a small amused smile playing around his lips. ‘Spit it out. Don’t be so nervous.’ He chuckled. ‘You make it sound like a love confession.’

And there it went, Prompto’s last chance at ending this with a sliver of his dignity intact. It flipped him the bird and dove headfirst into the toilet, leaving him with a face that felt as hot as if the Infernian himself had just sat on it and words squirming around on his tongue in an inextricable mess.

‘Uh, yeah, no, ‘course not’, he huffed out in some pathetic imitation of a laugh.

_Shut up._

‘That would be, like, super weird. Not to mention inappropriate and…’

_Shut up, you idiot._

‘…pathetic, I mean… right?’

_Shut up shut up shut up_

His tongue stuttered to a halt at Noct’s baffled expression. There was far too much understanding in this expression for his taste, understanding of what Prompto desperately tried to avoid spelling out now that this whole conversation had thrown itself into the gutter – and understanding of what an ultimate disaster his own attempt at lightening the mood had been.

‘Shit.’

‘Uh… huh?’ Prompto answered, completely helpless. He really hoped that Noct had only remembered that he hadn’t told Ignis to buy his favourite soda or something – but he wasn’t so lucky.

‘This… _is_ a love confession, right?’

He couldn’t even start to try and decipher Noct’s tone, he was far too busy with not fainting on the spot.

‘No, dude, seriously…’

‘Prompto - I’m so sorry…’

In that moment of all, they heard someone opening the door of their apartment. Prompto used the brief instance as Noct broke eye contact to turn around and storm towards the exit. He almost tackled Ignis on his way, who jumped aside in astonishment.

‘Where are you off to?’, he shouted after him.

‘To take a dive from the Citadel rooftop’, Prompto muttered, but he doubted that Ignis - or Gladio, who had entered behind him - could hear him. He was already on his way down the stairs and towards any kind of hole that would be big enough for him to hide in and never come out again.

***

He didn’t end up in a hole, but the park was nicer. Sure, there was rubble here and there, a few snapped lantern posts and claw marks on the lawn, but it was still a beautiful spot. It was baffling how many plants had survived the long night – they should have been dead after ten years without sunlight. But nature’s rules seemed to take a holiday, if the prince ( _king_ ) back in their apartment - walking and talking after being run through with a sword - was any indication.

Prompto’s phone chimed in his pocket. He would have loved to ignore it, as he had done for most of the last three hours, but there was still the slim possibility that it was Ignis or Gladio or someone of the Crownsguard telling him that something bad had happened.

It was Noct, of course.

Prompto sighed and scrolled through his unread messages – there were far too many. He read the newest of them:

_\- Let’s talk about this_

_\- Come on, answer me. Please_

_\- Where are you?_

_\- I sent Specs and Gladio to get some air. Come back and talk to me?_

_\- You all right? There could still be imperials in the city_

And then, the latest addition: _I’m sorry_

Prompto buried his face in his hands with a groan. This wasn’t right. He didn’t want Noct to feel guilty, not when he and his stupid mouth were the ones to blame for this mess. His phone rang again.

_\- If you won’t come back, I’ll report you missing and have the whole Crownsguard scour the city for you_

Another ring.

_\- And I’ll sneak past the guards and search for you myself_

That one had Prompto chuckling, and it pulled him out of his misery long enough to gather himself and take a deep breath. _All right, enough with the moping_ , he told himself. There was nothing more pathetic than a grown ass man hiding in a park like a heartbroken teenager. He began to type.

_\- I’d like to see you try._

There was a small pause, then: _Don’t think I can do it?_

_\- Sorry to break it to you, but last time you took more than two steps you wheezed like a half-dead Garula. They’d hear you from a mile away_

_\- Nothing like a small morning workout. Gladio would approve_

_\- Think I’ll pass on having the big guy rip me a new one for getting you out of bed_

_\- Tough, cause I’m going_

Prompto snorted, his fingers hovering over the display. He wouldn’t _entirely_ put it past Noct to actually try to get out of the apartment - probably ripping his wound open and bleeding to death in the process. But the light banter also gave him a little sliver of confidence that maybe, just maybe, he could still do this. He took another deep breath, squinted his eyes as if expecting a slap in the face and typed: _Be over in a minute_

Without waiting for a response, he put the phone away, rose from the bank he had occupied for the last hours and stretched the kinks out of his muscles. Then he steered towards the building they currently inhabited before he could think better of it.

_Well, this is gonna be fun._

***

Thankfully, neither Ignis nor Gladio where anywhere to be seen as he returned to the apartment. It seemed like Noct had actually managed to get both of them to leave him alone. Prompto was sure that they were hovering somewhere nearby, waiting to race to their charge’s help at the slightest notice.

When he entered Noct’s room, his friend was standing at the window, leaning heavily on the windowsill and taking in the view in seemingly deep thought.

‘Contemplating your life choices?’, Prompto joked. He was proud that his voice wavered only slightly.

Noct turned around, relief in his eyes as he saw him. Then he took another glance at the jungle of buildings outside the window.

‘Just enjoying the quiet while I can.’

That didn’t sound promising. Prompto’s voice was a touch higher than normal when he asked: ‘What do you mean?’

A shrug. ‘They’ll expect me to get back to the whole _king_ business once that stupid wound has healed - public appearances, council meetings, diplomacy...’

‘…securing the line of Lucis?’

He hadn’t meant for it to sound so snappish – he hadn’t really meant to say it at all – but unfortunately, he couldn’t pluck the words out of the air and cram them back down his throat.

Noct looked at him with an unreadable expression then quickly avoided his gaze, fixating the house on the other side of the street instead.

‘Nah. I won’t have a child only to throw it at the mercy of the Six. That part of Lucian tradition I’ll gladly pass.’ He snorted. ‘Not that I think the gods have any contingency plans for the line of kings, not with me being supposed to be dead. But you never know with those guys.’

His fingers tapped on the window frame, small enervating noises filling the room.

‘It will take some time for the people to get used to that thought, but they did fine without a king for years. I just want to help them rebuilt, bring back some order…’

He interrupted himself as if it occurred to him just now that stringing together so many sentences was way out of character for him. He blinked until the faint image of the monarch his words had conjured faded, leaving just _Noct._ Who said with a sheepish grin: ‘Look at me, talking politics. Specs would be proud.’

‘Only if he finds the time while having that nervous breakdown about you not lying in bed’, Prompto threw in. They laughed, but it didn’t last long. A heavy silence settled over them and Prompto didn’t need to see Noct shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other to know what would come next.

‘Prompto… about earlier…’

‘It’s cool’, the blonde cut him short, waving his concern aside. ‘I never expected an answer or anything anyway. I only wanted… I thought that I should tell you, you know? But… I’m fine, really. No sweat’, he ended lamely with a not-so-convincing smile, if Noct’s slightly frustrated snort was anything to go by.

‘Maybe I can have a word in this?’

Prompto shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. Noct let out a long breath and sat down on the corner of the bed. Standing around was still a strain on him, even if he tried to hide it.

‘I acted like a jerk earlier. I didn’t mean to, but I still did, and I’m sorry. I was just… surprised.’ He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. ‘It’s not like I had a lot of options in that matter before, so… I never really thought about it.’

Prompto didn’t let his head hang in defeat – he totally _didn’t._ Nevertheless, he hurried to say: ‘’Course not, you had other things to worry about, right? I told you, it’s no biggie. Let’s just forget about it.’ Now he was almost pleading. This wasn’t quite as bad as standing in Zegnautus keep and telling his friends he was born in the empire, destined to serve in the enemy’s army – at least he didn’t have to worry about being branded a traitor right now. But he could still end up as a creep and a weirdo in Noct’s eyes, which was almost as bad.

‘Well, too late’, Noct replied. Prompto hung his head a bit lower as his friend crossed his arms in front of his chest in a stubborn gesture.

‘Because I thought about it, now.’

_What?_

‘And I like it.’

_W H A T._

Prompto desperately tried to understand the meaning of these words while picking up his jaw from the floor. Meanwhile, Noct seemed highly fascinated by the pattern of the drapes next to the window. He had that look on his face like he always did when he had said something too sappy for his own taste and tried to play it down as much as possible. The undeniably _adolescent_ expression clashed with his thirty-year-old face in a way that would have been hilarious if Prompto would have had any brain capacity left to process it.

‘Uh…’ He barely managed to find his voice again. ‘But… wha – what about Lady Lunafreya?’ he stammered. And immediately bit his tongue because this had to be one of the stupidest things to come out of his mouth in a very long history of stupid things.

Noct’s gaze grew a bit more distant, his eyes still avoiding Prompto’s at all costs. But he didn’t pull back into a shell, which had to be a good sign.

‘She’s been dead for ten years. And… she was special to me – _is_ special to me – but in a different way. Not the _marriage_ kind of way.’ He squirmed uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting. ‘But since it was clear that I had to marry at some point, I thought I did pretty well. And I was happy that I could spend more time with her. Back then, it was just… convenient.’ Apparently, the drapes weren’t interesting enough anymore since he now started to scratch at his bandages instead, seemingly absorbed in the task of undoing all the work Ignis had put into them. His face was averted but Prompto could see the faint blush on his cheeks.

‘I don’t want to think about convenience anymore.’

Prompto was still at a total loss. His voice was a trembling misery as he finally got it to work again. ‘And you use the gift of free choice to just... go along with the first pathetic looser that falls for you?’ He choked out a laugh. ‘Way to go, buddy.’

Noct frowned at him, but there was no real bite behind it. ‘Stop trash talking my best friend, would you? Besides, why not?’ An amused sparkle crept into his eyes. ‘You can be kinda cute sometimes.’

Prompto would have come up with a few choice words about that last part, but he was still half convinced that maybe he was reading all of this very _very_ wrong and would make an even bigger fool of himself yet - or maybe he would wake up on his air mattress in the bedroom next door. He still couldn't stop the idiotic grin spreading over his face.

‘You’re saying… you want to be, like, _together?_ ’ The last word was more of a squeak. ‘For real?’

His friend was studying his fingernails intently as he answered in a more casual tone than Prompto would ever have managed: ‘Yeah, I really think I do.’

There was a lump in Prompto’s throat, and he could feel his eyes stinging with the stupid tears that came out on the worst occasions. He blinked them away and let himself fall on the bed next to Noct. ‘Wow’, he croaked. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. After he was confident enough that his voice wouldn’t fail him, he continued: ‘Sooo… what now?’

Noct huffed out a laugh. ‘Hey, you were the one who started this. Didn’t you say that you thought about it for _some time_? You should have some ideas, right?’

The blonde chuckled nervously. ‘It’s all kinda an extended version of a high school fantasy… I _never_ thought I’d come this far.’

Noct’s eyebrows shot up almost all the way to his hairline. ‘High school? It’s been _fifteen years_?’ He shook his head in disbelief. Then, with a mischievous glitter in his eyes, he added ‘And what was that fantasy about? Must’ve been some pretty hot action if you waited this long for me.’

‘ _Dude!_ ’

Noct laughed at Prompto’s utter shock until it had him bending over and holding his chest, but even that didn’t stop the snicker escaping his mouth. When he turned back to look Prompto in the eyes, he wore a beaming smile on his face and looked so genuinely happy that the blonde felt as if he might as well have swallowed a purring cat. Because for all his awkward stumbling, _he_ had caused that smile. The view made his heart beat faster and his head light and in that moment he did something he would never have thought himself capable of: He leaned forward, one hand coming to rest on Noct’s arm as light as a feather, barely daring to touch him – and he kissed him.

Noct went rigid in surprise and Prompto already wanted to pull back and apologize for ruining everything. But then Noct’s lips melted against his and he scurried closer, so close that Prompto could feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart. He hadn’t dared more than an almost chaste brush of their lips; but Noct slipped one hand around his neck, pulling him closer. The blonde leaned into the touch as slender fingers, their usual tremors subsided to a slight tremble, raked through his hair. There was the soft wetness of a tongue on his lips and suddenly it hit him that this was _really happening_. The realization made him surge forward in an almost desperate attempt to get more of this, to _taste_ and _feel_ and _claim._ Noct met him with equal vigour, the kiss turning into a feverish clash of teeth and tongue and heavy breaths. It was clumsy and sloppy, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

It didn’t last nearly as long as he would have liked, but Noct eventually pulled back with an apologizing frown. It was all too easy by now to forget that his wound probably still protested at every move. Noct cleared his throat, his face flushed, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Eventually he shrugged and said in a slightly husky voice ‘I… guess I should call Specs. The guys are probably on tenterhooks already.’

That was a rather abrupt change of topic, but after Prompto had calmed his hammering heart, he found that he didn’t mind all that much. For one because Noct was right - if they kept Ignis and Gladio waiting any longer, they were risking the two of them barging in uninvited and that would be _really_ awkward. The other reason was the smile playing around Noct’s lips, the one he tried to hide behind a cool façade. That little uncontrolled twitch in the corners of his mouth was all Prompto needed to know that he was not the only one feeling warm and fuzzy deep down in his guts. Noct was just better at hiding it, as he pulled out his phone and called Ignis in a surprisingly even voice. When he settled back on the bed, his hand wandered to his chest again. Prompto scrambled to the edge of the mattress to give him space to lie down – but before he did so, Noct caught his arm and pressed another kiss to his lips, little more than a playful peck. Then he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes without further comment. Prompto watched him with a broad grin he wouldn’t have been able to contain even if he wanted to.

_Eternal embarrassment – check._

_…Totally worth it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that I'm really blown away by your response. I'm generally a bit nervous about people reading my works and I had no idea how you would like this one, especially since I only just started publishing my fics and also have no clue what my english sounds like to a native speaker (or anyone else with a decent feel for language). It's really awesome that people enjoy reading this and I'm so happy about you giving me feedback on my work. Thank you so much!


	5. First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the best things still need getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly fluff. That's it. Because the boys deserve nice things in their lives after the last chapters.  
> Also references to Episode Prompto, because we can't have too many nice things at once.

Prompto watched Noct fall asleep with the feeling of their kiss still tingling on his lips. From what stage of a relationship on was watching someone sleep considered romantic instead of creepy? He had no idea. His head was spinning so much that it took him a full minute to realise that Ignis and Gladio could step through the door any moment – and that he would have to deal with them on his own since his asshole friend had ditched him. His friend – his boyfriend? Gods, he was confused. But sorting that out had to wait, because he had the faint impression that a cold shower was in order before he would be able to look Noct's retainers in the eyes again.

When he stepped out of the bathroom a short while later, he did his best to put up something like a neutral expression. Apparently he did a very poor job; as soon as Gladio set his sights on him, the shield snorted and asked: ‘What’ve you been up to? You look like a cat that got in the pantry.’

‘Uhm…’

‘I assume you have settled your differences?’, Ignis cut in, saving him a somewhat awkward explanation.

‘Yeah, absolutely. We’re cool.’

Ignis accepted the answer with a nod, while Gladio still eyed Prompto suspiciously. Finally, he let him off the hook with a grunt and started to leaf through the stack of documents they had brought back with them instead. Meanwhile, Prompto tried his best to melt into the background to avoid any further questioning. He suddenly had the urge to look at himself in the mirror to check whether there was any visible evidence plastered over his face suggesting that he had been snogging with the friggin’ king of Lucis while the others were gone. But that might have drawn Gladio’s attention, and to avoid _that_ was his new number one objective. Not that he planned to hide whatever was going on between Noct and him – that would be a futile effort anyway – but at the moment, he had enough on his hands with wrapping his head around his own emotions.

In the following hours, he found that his initial euphoria slowly gave way to a growing anxiety. Because - what the hell was he supposed to do now? Should he try to act normal, or would Noct expect something more from him? Would Ignis and Gladio notice? Was that a bad thing? Would Noct want to keep it from them? Prompto felt himself moved back to the first days of high school when all he had done was trying to calculate what he was allowed to say and do so his royal classmate wouldn’t either laugh at him or never talk to him again. It was unnerving.

When Noct finally joined them – just in time for dinner, of course – it didn’t get much better. Because he went along with the friendly bickering as usual, seemingly without paying Prompto any special mind. It almost felt as if the blonde had just dreamed their whole conversation in the bedroom. Or as if Noct had woken up realising that all of this was a very, very bad idea. Prompto tried to convince himself that he was probably just too self-conscious again, but the nervousness lingered.

Until he raised his head during dinner only to catch a pair of blue eyes staring at him. Noct’s chin rested in his hand, his expression absent. There was a smile playing around his lips, even though he tried to conceal it with his fingers. As he became aware of Prompto’s gaze resting on him, he quickly blinked the dreamy expression away and hid his face behind a curtain of hair, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

_Damn, he’s adorable._

It was all Prompto could do not to start giggling like an idiot. From there on, he kept throwing quick glances in his friend’s direction to try and catch another one of those stares. He did. Plenty of them. Sometimes Noct was smiling, sometimes he was chewing on his lip as if thinking about a riddle. It made Prompto throw his doubts out the window and replaced them with butterflies in his stomach.

The silent back and forth of half-concealed looks continued until a few hours after dinner, when Noct rose from the chair where he had been dozing, yawning dramatically.

‘Alright, I’m gonna crash’, he announced. ‘You coming too?’

It took Prompto a moment to realise that the question was directed at him, then another to process it. Dumbfounded, he nodded without thinking. And tried to ignore the way Gladio’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline as the shield watched them.

‘Y-yeah, sure.’

His face felt hot as he jumped up way to quickly to join his friend. With a slurred ‘Night’ towards Ignis and Gladio, Noct shuffled through the door to his bedroom. Before Prompto could follow him, Ignis caught his arm.

‘A moment, please.’

_Uh-oh…_

Ignis led him away from Gladio and his no doubt perked ears. As he spoke, his voice was low enough that the shield wouldn’t be able to overhear them – for which Prompto was eternally grateful as soon as the words left the other man’s mouth.

‘I merely wish to remind you that the two of you shouldn’t engage in… physically straining activities until Noct’s injuries have fully healed.’

After Prompto had translated the sentence into simpler words and grasped its meaning, he immediately flushed crimson from head to toe. He had to scramble for words as he was trying to articulate something resembling an answer - and failed miserably. 

_So much for the question whether Ignis would guess what happened._

‘No need for embarrassment.’ The advisor lay a hand on his shoulder in a brief reassuring gesture and gave him a subtle push towards the bedroom door. ‘Good night, Prompto.’

‘Uh, yeah, uhm… night.’

Under Gladio’s scrutinizing gaze, he hurried into the other room where Noct had already stretched out on the bed, throwing him a questioning glance.

‘What was that about?’, he asked.

‘Oh, you know…’ Prompto was sure his voice was at least an octave higher than usual. ‘Just Iggy worrying that we might plan to have hardcore sex while you’re still on the mend.’

Noct’s mouth hung open for a moment, then he snorted in laughter. ‘Specs said that?’

‘He called it _physically straining activities_.’

Noct shook his head, still snickering, which gave Prompto a second to wriggle out of his pants and shirt and slip under the covers without being watched too closely. It wasn’t like Noct had never seen him in underwear before – going camping together for an extensive period of time would do that – but he had never gotten past the embarrassment he still felt every time someone saw him undress. And right now, it wasn’t just about him being too conscious about his own body. It was also about the fact that undressing in front of each other kinda meant a different thing when they had been kissing on this very bed just a few hours before.

He curled up on the mattress and tried to get comfortable – which wasn’t easy considering the person lying next to him stayed rigid as a board, fingers fidgeting with the sheets. Maybe it was because of Noct’s expertise at playing it cool, but it hadn’t really occurred to Prompto before that his friend was just as nervous as he was – maybe even more so, since this whole idea was completely new to him. Now that he had dropped his façade, it was pretty obvious.

_So here we are, two anxious dorks under a blanket._

Prompto stared into the darkness for another minute before he couldn’t take it anymore and scurried over to the other side of the bed, snuggling up to Noct. A smile spread over his face as he felt the other lean into the touch - hesitant at first, but quickly relaxing. He could feel the little puffs of air on his cheek as Noct slurred ‘G’night, Prompto’, before his breath took on a deep and slow rhythm. The excitement in his stomach faded little by little, dissolving into warmth.

***

He was racing through dark narrow hallways, an endless tube of concrete and metal. The gun in his hand felt heavy. His breath came out in white puffs that hung in the air and obscured his vision. The cold bit into his skin, slowing his movements. His finger on the trigger was already stiff, the skin burning from the icy metal. He skidded around a corner, finding himself in a big circular room. In its middle, there was a row of cylindrical glass containers, each big enough to hold a grown man. As he stepped into the room, the glass shattered and dark figures with purple eyes glowing in masked faces crawled out of their prisons, standing up and turning around to him with unnatural, broken movements. The gun jerked in his hands and the first of them was sent flying. As it crushed against the wall, the mask shattered and empty eyes stared at him, familiar blue eyes in a freckled face.

There was a roar behind him and he whipped his head around, only to see that the other figures had started to warp and twist, turning into something darker, more daemonic. Behind their countless deformed bodies, he could make out a dim light, flickering like a dying candle - a familiar shape encased in glowing crystal. As soon as he recognized it, the fiends turned as if on a silent signal. With a snarl they leapt towards the crystal, their claw-like fingers screeching over its smooth surface. The gun was heavy in his hand. Too heavy to raise it, to take aim. Already there were cracks in the flawless casing, already were twisted fingers with sharp nails reaching for the vulnerable figure inside…

Prompto was jerked back into reality, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, trying to calm down his racing heart. He almost didn’t notice the warm hand on his shoulder, the hand that had shaken him awake. He turned around to find eyes looking at him, barely more than a glitter in the dark.

‘You okay?’ Noct’s voice was husky from sleep.

Prompto let out a shaky breath, covering his eyes with his forearm. The dream was still vivid behind his eyelids; he could still taste the stale air of the MT facility in his mouth, feel the weight of the gun in his hand.

‘Yeah.’ He risked a glance at Noct. ‘Did I wake you?’, he asked, his conscience already gnawing at him. He must have tossed around pretty badly if he had managed to disturb Noct’s sleep.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ The eyes in the darkness studied his face in what little light from the street lanterns fell through the window. ‘Nightmare?’

Prompto nodded, rubbing his face as if he could scrub away the traces of the dream. ‘It’s okay. I’m… used to it.’

He could _feel_ Noct frowning beside him and his heart sank. The nightmares didn’t plague him as often anymore, but he still felt miserable for struggling with them in the first place. He should have been able to deal with a few bad dreams. Neither Ignis nor Gladio seemed to have trouble sleeping after all – but maybe he was just that pathetic.

‘Wanna talk about it?’

He was tempted to say no. Noct would respect that. He could pretend that everything was alright and try to go back to sleep. Instead he sighed and tried to scrape together what he could remember.

‘I… I dreamt about you. You were attacked by… by MTs… or daemons, I’m not sure. But… you were stuck inside a crystal and couldn’t defend yourself. And I just stood there, watching them claw their way through to you…I didn’t do a thing.’ He felt his face clench in a pained expression and tried to bite back the tears. If he was lucky, Noct wouldn’t be able to see it in the dark.

There were a few heartbeats of silence. Then: ‘You know that you saved my ass more times than I could count, right?’

Prompto let out a shaky laugh, but Noct wasn’t finished.

‘You never just _stood by._ Ignis and Gladio, Cor, everyone in the Crownsguard… they did more than I could have asked for, but they were doing their _jobs._ They’ve been preparing for this for years, some of them their whole lives. But you… you were never supposed to fight in a war. You were supposed to take silly pictures and play videogames with me and be the normal person that would keep my head straight. But you fought anyway. You did enough. Don’t forget that, you hear?’

Noct’s tone was firm, but passionate. With some surprise, Prompto realised that he must have given this some thought before for him to have a speech like this at hand. The fact that his friend had worried about him – that he had known exactly what Prompto would beat himself up over – helped just as much as the words themselves.

‘I’ll try’, he whispered.

The eyes in the dark still studied his face intently. They seemed to see the little cracks the nightmare had left, plain as day. Prompto took an unsteady breath.

‘The dream… when it started… it was about what happened after I fell off the train.’

Noct stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. Prompto squirmed nervously under the covers, avoiding his gaze.

‘I… never told you about that, right?’

‘You told me that you were born in Niflheim. And that they would have made you an MT if you hadn’t gotten out first.’

‘Yeah.’ Prompto stared into the darkness for a while, agonizing whether he should continue or not. But there was no reason to hold anything back now.

‘Ardyn caught me when I was following the train and… dropped me off in this building. The Magitec Production Facility, they called it. I found reports of what they did there…’ Prompto clenched his teeth and shook his head as if he could get rid of the memories. Then he added with little more than a whisper: ‘I met my father.’

‘Your _father_?’

The blonde nodded weakly. ‘This scientist… he headed the facility. He was the one who figured out how to turn humans into MTs and he… he built the empire’s army. And since he needed people for that, he started to… _produce_ them. He made clones of himself. Probably thousands of them.’ Prompto had to swallow hard. ‘There was a guy… he was asleep in some glass tube. And… he looked like me. _Exactly_ like me.’ And there they were, the stupid, stupid tears. He tried to blink them away, tried to hide his face, but it didn’t help.

Noct didn’t say anything. Prompto just felt arms wrapping around him, pulling him into an embrace until his face was buried in the crook of his friend’s neck, tears staining the fabric of his shirt. Noct let a hand run over his back, rubbing soothing circles over the freckled skin. He waited until Prompto had calmed down a bit, then he asked: ‘That scientist – what happened to him?’

‘I shot him.’ That was the short version of it, but it was all that mattered.

‘Good.’

Prompto let out a deep breath, leaning his head against Noct’s collarbone. He was still shaking but getting all that horror from ten years ago off his chest – it felt good.

‘Thanks’, he murmured.

‘For what?’

‘Just… thanks.’

He felt the arms tightening around him, and a finger gently running over his cheek, wiping away the traces his tears had left.

‘I love you’, Noct whispered.

It took Prompto all his self-control not to start bawling into his friend’s chest all over again.

***

Prompto woke up from the sounds of shuffling feet and low voices next door. For a moment he had to ask himself why he wasn’t lying on the air mattress in the other bedroom he shared with Ignis and Gladio – but the answer to that question presented itself in the form of a heavy weight on his right arm. Noct had seized control of the limb at some point in the night and now used his newly acquired possession as a pillow. His fingers were already getting tingly but no matter how much he tried to, Prompto couldn’t wriggle free from the iron grip. He doubled his efforts as he heard heavy steps coming towards their room. He assumed that there wasn’t much to be secretive about anymore, but he wasn’t quite ready for their friends to actually _see_ him in this kind of situation. Especially since he was aware of the fact that he was very much shirtless. He was also _very_ aware of the full length of Noct’s lean body pressed against his, and damn, he really needed a moment alone in the bathroom. In the end, trying to at least avoid some snarky comments, he turned to his last resort: closing his eyes and hoping that Gladio would believe him to be asleep.

‘Quit playing dead, Prompto’, the shield’s voice rumbled somewhere to his left. The blonde sighed and cracked one eye open, only to see the other man looking down at him with raised eyebrows.

‘How was your night, Prince Charming?’

With an exasperated groan and a bit more colour in his cheeks than he would wish for, Prompto started a new attempt at freeing his arm. Noct simply mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and snuggled closer to him. Gladio watched his efforts with crossed arms and a smug grin on his face. Finally, the blonde gave up and let his head fall back onto his pillow.

‘Hey, big guy, be a pal and just… _go_.’

The shield’s grin grew even wider and he raised his shoulders in a mock apology. ‘Sorry, no can do. Shield’s code: _Thou shalt not leave your liege from your sight, not even and especially not when he is canoodling with dudes whose facial hair is sparser than said liege's love for vegetables_.’

Prompto rolled his eyes. 'Wow, how long have you worked on that sentence?'

'I had some time on my hands last night', Gladio answered with a shrug.

Before Prompto could come up with a witty answer, Ignis’s head popped through the door.

‘If you two are quite finished – Prompto, would you be so kind as to give me a hand in the kitchen?’

‘Uhm, yeah… I’d love to, but I’m kinda tied up here…’

‘Noct has him in a death grip’, Gladio helpfully supplied when Ignis frowned in confusion. The advisor sighed and adjusted his glasses. ‘Well it seems we now have _two_ members of our party who are not able to leave bed at a reasonable hour.’ He inclined his head in Gladio’s direction. ‘I believe that leaves you to aid me with breakfast. Would you mind setting the table for me?’

The shield looked as if he would love to give everyone present his opinion on chores, but he thought better of it. One does not deny a request from Ignis that easily. Instead, he retreated to the kitchen with a grumble, finally leaving Prompto to his own devices.

Noct woke up not too long after, his head still propped on Prompto’s arm. Though ‘waking up’ was relative – he was just about awake enough to pull a face at the sun shining through the drapes and bury his nose deeper in the covers. Prompto watched him with fascination. He had seen him first thing in the morning plenty of times, but somehow, it was different from up close. He thought about how much he would like to kiss the drowsiness away.

It took him a few moments to realise that there was nothing stopping him.

With a grin, he leaned in closer, and gently brushed his lips over Noct’s cheek. The other one answered with a ‘Hrmph’, squinting his eyes. After a moment he blinked, and a groggy smile spread across his face.

‘Morning’, he slurred.

Instead of an answer, Prompto leaned forward again, catching Noct’s mouth with his own. The kiss wasn’t as feverish as their first one had been; it was drawn-out and soft, a lazy play of their tongues. After they separated, Noct studied his friend’s face until Prompto felt a blush creep over his skin.

‘What?’, he asked.

‘Your freckles are coming back’, Noct mumbled. ‘One more thing the sun is good for. I missed those.’

‘You… missed my freckles?’

A chuckle. ‘Yeah, apparently I did.’

Prompto blinked in astonishment. The fact that Noct would wake up after a ten-year sleep, find the world run over by daemons and _still_ have the mind to _miss his damned freckles_ was almost more than his heart could take. He giggled and pulled his friend closer, almost choking him in a hug as he buried his nose in the raven hair.

Noct snorted against his chest. ‘What’s that about?’, he asked with amusement.

‘Nothing.’ Prompto let go so he could look him in the eyes again, beaming at him.

‘I love you.’

Noct’s eyes widened for a heartbeat. Then he buried his face in the blonde’s chest again. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t answer, but then Prompto heard his muffled voice.

‘Love you, too.’


	6. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a new place in a world that's changing can be a challenge. Even if the change is for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little heads up: This is the last chapter of the actual story. The next one will be a bonus chapter, kind of. I'm not quite done writing it, since I gathered a ton of ideas on how to do it while editing the rest of the story. So I hope I'll finish it in time to keep up my usual pace.  
> But for now - enjoy! (Also there is smut in there. I don't know how to write smut. Read at your own risk)

‘For the last time: We’re not starting construction on the Citadel while the people don’t have as much as a working water supply.’ Noct was sitting at his desk, phone in hand, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the wood. The tabletop was covered in haphazardly arranged stacks of papers, even though Ignis tried to somehow organize the flood of documents every time he came by. ‘And speaking of ways to waste money – if anyone brings up the plans for that ridiculous statue again, Astrals help me…’

Prompto stole a cautious glance at his friend’s back from behind his comic book. He was slouching on the couch of Noct’s new apartment, leafing through the worn-out issue without much interest. He had lost count of how many times he had read it by now.

After getting accustomed to things like kissing and casual caresses, waking up next to another person and ignoring Gladio’s teasing remarks as well as Ignis’s well-meant advice, Prompto had come to face yet another challenge: feeling completely and utterly useless. The Crown City slowly began to fill with people again, and with Noct now spending more hours of the day awake than sleeping, he had started the effort to restore something resembling an order to the kingdom. Taking up his duties both filled him with new life at the prospect of being able to finally do something - even if his tasks ranged from ultimately boring meetings to uncomfortable public appearances - and left him utterly drained in the evening. Gladio was busy hovering at his side and bringing the Crownsguard up to speed. Ignis was being _Ignis_ , buzzing all over the place, trying to keep Noct from slacking off as well as making sure he got the rest he needed, all while attending meetings, managing information from across the kingdom and keeping the pantry stocked. And Prompto… Prompto was watching them all and asking himself how he would fit into this new state of affairs.

On one hand – he was happy. Noct had pulled a few strings for him to get a place of his own in the apartment complex that now counted as the new seat of government, housing what remained of the royal court and the people most important to the rebuilding effort, plus a few makeshift bureaus and meeting rooms. It was nice to have some space to himself; especially since Noct spent more and more hours each day dealing with matters of state, leaving Prompto to his own devices. Their apartments were separated by just one hallway though, allowing him to sneak into his friend’s room whenever the needs of the kingdom had been attended to for the day. He found that Noct never sent him away in the evening, no matter how tired he was. On the contrary, the prospect of playing a few rounds of King’s Knight while roasting each other and falling asleep in a tangle of limbs amidst strewn about comic books and chip bags seemed to delight him every day anew. Prompto supposed that mundane things could feel like a luxury after dealing with world-changing problems the whole day, and it gave him no small amount of satisfaction to see Noct taking strength from his presence.

If only he had something to _do._ Prompto had been a hunter for years, but there were no more daemons to hunt anymore and no beasts prowling Insomnia’s streets. Of course there was plenty of work in a city that was being rebuilt after ten years of abandonment. But people more suited for those tasks were arriving from the outer regions every day - and there were only so many errands a man could run for Ignis before going crazy.

An exasperated sigh pulled him out of his thoughts. Noct had thrown the phone on the desk and leaned back on his chair, rubbing his face with both hands. Prompto set aside his comic book. Well, there was one thing he _could_ do.

He walked over to the desk and wrapped his arms around his friend’s neck, resting his chin on the top of his head. Noct’s shoulders relaxed at the touch and he leaned back against the other man’s chest with a content hum.

‘I think you’re done for today’, Prompto said decisively. ‘Doctor’s orders.’

Noct chuckled. ‘I didn’t know you changed professions.’

‘For you, I’ll be anything’, the blonde replied in the corniest voice he could manage, drawing a snort from his friend.

‘Fine… no more work.’

With a satisfied grin, Prompto pulled him from his chair and towards the couch. As they sat down, Noct pulled his knees up to his chest and let himself fall against him, his head resting on the blonde’s shoulder.

‘Rough day?’

A shrug. ‘Could be worse… I know everyone is doing their best and we made some real progress already, but sometimes… it just feels as if I’m barely holding it all together.’

Noct’s hand was trembling again, betraying how worn out and stressed he really was. Prompto frowned, but he quickly wiped the expression from his face. Instead, he pushed his friend backwards by the shoulders until he toppled over with a yelp, pinning him down on the couch with his own weight. He took care not to squeeze him too much though – their range of activities had increased considerably with Noct’s recovery, but his wounds were not fully healed yet and Prompto was still constantly looking out not to hurt him on accident. He couldn’t wait for his friend to finally leave the aftermath of his near-death experience behind; the restrictions his body imposed on him were gnawing at Noct just as much as the constant reminder of what he had suffered - and besides that, they still had to give a try at those _physically straining_ _activities_ as Ignis had put it.

But right now, Prompto was busy winding his fingers into raven hair, leaning down into a kiss.

‘You got this’, he mumbled against Noct’s lips. ‘I know you do.’

He gave him another peck on the mouth. ‘You show those bores on the council how it’s done.’

A peck on the cheek. ‘And then you go to the old farts in Accordo and show _them_ how it’s done.’

A peck on the tip of his nose. ‘And _then_ …’

‘Alright, alright!’, Noct interrupted him with a laugh. He leaned his forehead against Prompto’s, a warm smile on his lips. ‘Thanks’, he added.

The blonde hummed, self-content. Then, with a new thought appearing to him, he suddenly grabbed his friend by the shoulders and shoved him away at arms-length.

‘Let’s go see the chocobos!’, he exclaimed.

‘See the - what?’

‘The chocobos!’ Prompto scrambled into a sitting position, almost bouncing on the couch with excitement. ‘Some of the destroyed streets are too narrow for cars, so they brought some chocobos as pack animals. Let’s go see them! You can bring Gladio or something so Iggy won’t get a heart attack. Please?’

Noct blinked, baffled at his friend’s sudden outbreak. ‘Uhm… yeah, I guess we can do that.’

‘Awesome!’

Prompto pulled him up from the couch and towards the apartment’s door. From the corner of his eye, he observed the amused smile playing around Noct’s lips. The hand he was holding wasn’t trembling anymore. A small victory.

***

He was busy pinning pictures to the walls of his new apartment – he didn’t own much stuff to make the rooms more homelike, so lots and lots of pictures it was – as he received a text from Noct.

_\- Dinner at my place tonight, Iggy’s cooking. You coming?_

Prompto raised his eyebrows in surprise. If he remembered correctly, Noct should be in the middle of a meeting right now. He could vividly imagine Ignis’s face when he caught the king texting under the table like a bored schoolboy. The thought made him chuckle.

And of course he was coming.

As he entered Noct’s apartment in the evening, the king of Lucis was lounging on the couch barefoot and in sweatpants, tipping away on his phone with a look of deep concentration. Gladio, who was sitting in an armchair, his uniform long discarded in favour of more comfortable clothes, was mirroring him. There was the clapper of pans and pots coming from the kitchen.

Prompto’s eyes settled on Noct. Seeing him every day, he had barely realised how much better he looked by now. His face wasn’t as pale and taut anymore, the burns on his cheeks faded save some remaining scars here and there. He still made more use of his left hand than he had before the fight at the Citadel, but he was so used to it by now that the recurring tremors in his right barely hindered him anymore. Except when playing King’s Knight, apparently, since Gladio let out a triumphant ‘Ha!’ and Noct threw his phone on the table in frustration. Then he looked up to Prompto and a grin split his face.

‘Hey there!’

Prompto felt himself returning the grin, happiness bubbling in his insides as he let himself fall onto the couch next to Noct, who punched his shoulder and then hooked one arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Prompto could hear Gladio clearing his throat as the gesture lasted and he already wanted to pull back, but Noct wasn’t having it. He just cracked one eye open to give his shield a death glare and made a show of deepening the kiss - until Gladio left his post with an amused snort to give them some space. When he returned a few minutes later, the two of them were already absorbed in another round of King’s Knight, Noct slouching in the corner of the couch with Prompto’s head in his lap.

Ignis brought out the food not long after, and Prompto’s eyes grew wide at the feast he dished up.

‘We got something to celebrate?’, he asked as they settled around the table.

‘Indeed we have’, Ignis replied. He motioned for Noct to elaborate as he started distributing the food. The latter shrugged, looking demonstratively uninterested.

‘The doctor said I’m clear. Don’t have to go easy anymore.’

‘Alright!’ Gladio grinned. ‘Looks like we can start training again soon. Can’t have you slacking off for too long.’

‘There will be no training for some time yet’, Ignis stated strictly, to which Gladio just rolled his eyes.

‘Yes, _mum_ ’, Noct mumbled, but there was a chuckle hidden in his voice. Prompto couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, this felt very much like sitting around a campfire next to a cold, damp tent, body aching from a day’s worth of running and fighting… it felt like _home_.

Later that evening his stomach was full, and his sides were sore from laughing. Noct let out a content sigh and leaned against his shoulder.

‘We should do this more often’, he said to no one in particular.

Prompto’s head was tipped back against the backrest of the couch and he stared up to the blank ceiling, an absent grin plastered over his face.

‘Yeah, I really think we should’, he mumbled.

‘Agreed’, Ignis said somewhere to his left.

‘Alright.’ Noct lifted his head from Prompto’s shoulder and took a look around the room, taking in the sight of his three friends gathered around him in lazy contentment. ‘Per royal decree, we’ll have a boy’s night out once a week. And don’t you dare bring any work’, he added with a glare in Ignis’s direction.

‘I’m on board with that’, Gladio chuckled. Then, with a telling glance at Noct, he stood up and stretched the kinks out of his muscles. ‘But I think I’m gonna call it a day now.’

Ignis followed his example, wishing them a good night before retreating towards the door. Noct simply nodded and waved them a silent goodbye. Prompto looked after them as the door closed. It wasn’t particularly late yet, but Noct had probably had a stressful day.

‘Soo… we turn in, too?’

Noct shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m good. Wanted you for myself for a bit anyway.’

‘Oh. Well… no complaints here.’ Prompto gestured towards their phones on the table with a jerk of his chin. ‘Down for another round, then?’

Noct hummed. Suddenly he was very busy avoiding Prompto’s eyes. ‘Actually… I had something else in mind.’

And with that, he grabbed Prompto’s arm and pulled him off the couch. He only stopped in the room next door, a few steps away from the bed that was too neat to be anyone’s but Ignis’s doing. Prompto almost stumbled into him, too caught up in processing what exactly was happening right now. There was a nervous prickling in his gut and he suddenly felt much hotter than before.

‘Uh…’

Noct turned around, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes studying the doorframe behind Prompto with deep fascination.

‘Well, I’m officially not on the mend anymore, so…’

Prompto swallowed hard. ‘You… uhm… you sure?’, he asked with an unsteady voice. Damn, someone had really cranked up the temperature in here.

Noct managed to look him in the eyes now, and his gaze was surprisingly firm. As was his voice when he said: ‘Yeah, if you are.’

He should have answered with something deep or emotional or memorable… what came out of his mouth, though, was more of an undignified squeak. ‘Dude… hell yes.’

He was pretty sure his face was so red it would glow in the dark and the palms of his hands were sweaty which was just awkward, and shouldn’t he have brushed his teeth after dinner or something? In the end, his train of thought came to an abrupt stop as Noct grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and pushed him down on the bed. Then there were hands on the hem of his shirt, pushing the fabric up and pulling it over his head.

He let himself fall back onto the mattress. Somewhere in the back of his mind, behind the excitement squirming around in his stomach, there was already the familiar discomfort at being so exposed crawling up his spine. But then he realised that Noct was still standing there, fiddling with his own shirt and avoiding his gaze, a slight shade of red on his cheeks. He seemed to compose himself and yanked the shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. Then he settled on the edge of the bed, leaning forward until his fingers could trace Prompto’s jaw, gently running over the smooth skin of his throat and following the curve of his collarbone. The tremor in his hand was worse than normal, fingers fluttering nervously against the blonde's skin. Prompto’s eyes fell on his torso, on the faded burns covering his arm all the way up to his shoulder, part of his chest and throat; and on the bulging jagged scar right in the centre of his ribcage. It was the first time he saw it. This lasting reminder of what Noct had been through, of how he nearly lost him, took away his breath. But it was also the proof that he had _survived_ , that he had beaten all the odds stacked against him and triumphed.

As Prompto raised his eyes again, Noct shied away from his gaze. He unconsciously turned his body away to hide it from sight, his face averted. He looked up in surprise as he felt the light touch of Prompto’s hand on his chest, warm fingers running over the scarred skin, careful not to hurt. Then he was being pulled down in a deep kiss.

Prompto couldn’t tell when the gesture of reassurance and affection turned into a hungry clash of teeth and tongue that had them both panting and pushing for more. But he was hyper aware of how Noct’s body, hot and hard and soft at the same time, started rocking against his. There were hands roaming over his exposed skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and the proof of his arousal straining against the fabric of his pants. He clasped his arms around Noct’s back, pulling him even closer, and he felt the other’s hardness pressing against his leg. That did away with the last inhibitions he might have had, and he pushed Noct’s pants out of the way in an impatient gesture. This time, his partner did not hesitate but simply kicked the clothing off and to the floor before starting to fumble with Prompto’s belt.

With their clothes gone, Noct paused in his movements and stared down at Prompto, breathing heavily. Looking into his wavering blue eyes gave the blonde a strange moment of calm clarity. Because in front of him, he saw the young man – barely more than a teenager – who had been cheated out of ten years of his life. It was all too easy to forget that all the premature wisdom and royal raiment did not make up for mundane life experience. And it hit him that Noct was looking to _him_ of all people to make up for that.

Which was a very bad idea because his additional decade had seriously lacked in this particular department.

Prompto pushed away his thoughts and let the desire squirming around in his belly take over instead; because otherwise he probably would have stared up into Noct’s questioning eyes like a rabbit in a flashlight for hours to come. Instead, he rolled them over until he was on top, catching Noct’s mouth with his lips and grinding down his hips until he felt the other gasp and push back, fingernails softly dragging over freckled skin. They interrupted the roaming of their hands, the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and the rocking of their bodies only for Noct to retrieve a box of condoms and a small bottle of lube from his nightstand. Prompto quickly shoved the question of _how in the name of the Six did he even get this stuff_ out of his mind before he could think too hard about the obvious, spectacle-wearing answer. And suddenly there were much more pressing matters to attend to, such as a tongue tracing down the side of his neck and a pair of legs wrapping around his waist.

It was a blur from there on, just heavy breath filling his ears, their moans mingling together, the sight of his own hands knotting into the sheets and the feeling of Noct’s fingers digging into the skin of his back. As he finally collapsed onto the messy covers, his breathing was laboured and a sheen of sweat was covering his body. He felt boneless and spent, but he overcame the feeling to turn his head towards Noct. His friend was lying on his back, chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes staring at the ceiling and trying to focus after coming down from his high. Just as the silence started to weigh heavy on Prompto and that tiny annoying voice he couldn’t seem to get rid of started whispering in the back of his mind _it was probably terrible, he already regrets asking you in the first place,_ a feathery touch on his cheek pulled him back into reality. Noct played with the strands of his hair with an absent smile that widened as he caught Prompto’s gaze. With sluggish movements, he rolled over to press a kiss to the blonde’s lips, before collapsing on his chest in a heap of heavy limbs. Prompto chuckled and wriggled out from under the weight, curling around the other's warm body instead. He felt Noct nuzzling into the crook of his neck with a content hum, and for once, the nagging self-doubts fell really and truly silent.

***

Following the new unofficial royal decree, they got together in Noct’s apartment again the next week. Ignis had been rummaging around the kitchen for what seemed to be hours, and after Prompto had risked a glance through the door to see what he was up to, he turned around to Noct with raised eyebrows.

‘I think he raided the whole pantry’, he said, baffled. ‘We have something to celebrate again?’

Noct looked up from his phone. ‘Oh, right. Well… not yet, technically.’

He jumped up from the couch and started digging around in the drawers of his desk. With a triumphant ‘There you are!’, he turned back to Prompto.

‘Here, I’ve got something for you.’

Prompto glanced suspiciously at the paper that was being shoved into his face. Noct chuckled at his expression. ‘It won’t bite, I promise. You just have to sign.’

‘That sounds… mildly dangerous’, the blonde mused. ‘Which part of my body am I selling?’

‘Oh, this is much worse’, his friend replied with a broad grin. ‘You’re signing over your soul to Ignis.’

‘Huh?’

A muffled voice piped up behind the kitchen door. ‘ _I heard that._ ’

Noct snickered and waved the paper around under his friend’s nose impatiently. ‘It’s an employment contract. Officially putting you in service to the Crown.’

Prompto frowned in confusion. ‘Me? Like… as a Crownsguard?’

Noct snorted. ‘You really want to stand at attention the whole day, watching me signing bills or something? Nah – it’s reconnaissance, mostly. Damage assessment, documentation of the rebuilding effort… Simply put: You get to ride around Insomnia in a sweet car _I_ paid for and take pictures. Around the rest of Lucis too, if you want to.’

He had to admit, that sounded much more tempting than the Crownsguard stuff – even if his former unofficial job in that department hadn’t turned out so bad in the end.

‘Don’t you have, I don’t know… scouts or something? I mean… I’m not exactly a professional.’ The whole idea made him feel giddy already, even as he voiced his concerns.

‘You’ve been a professional hunter for a whole decade, and also the best photographer I know. You can take care of yourself and I know I can count on you. Why would I give the job to anyone else?’ Noct thrust the paper into his hands. ‘Just take the damn contract already.’

Prompto scrambled not to drop the thing as he grabbed it a bit too hastily and scribbled his name on the line at the bottom. This was his chance to do something important, something that would help Noct and the rest of Lucis. His chance to get off the sidelines. He loved being a part of Noct's life, but having a life of his own he could share with him in turn somehow seemed that much more valuable. It meant more to him than his friend could possibly know.

Or maybe he knew _exactly,_ judging by the smug grin on his face and the genuine happiness underneath it. He punched Prompto's shoulder playfully.

‘Congrats on the new job.’

He jumped with a yelp as the blonde crushed him in a hug.

Throughout the whole dinner, Prompto couldn’t stop grinning. They had saved the world, he had his friends around him and the one he loved right by his side, he now had a job others counted on. Things were going well for him. Not just well – perfect.


	7. Bonus: Episode Noctis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two sides to each love story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This has nothing to do with the DLC that might or might not have been announced at some point in history.  
> 2\. References to Brotherhood ahead  
> 3\. Yes, I have a slight obsession with Prompto's freckles. They're gosh darn adorable!

He was twelve years old and staring down at the chubby blonde kid lying in the dust in front of him. At glasses framing the bluest eyes he had ever seen, a round face dusted with faint freckles, a small hand holding up a red camera to protect it from damage as if it was his most precious possession.

Noct recognized him vaguely. He was one of the gawkers. He wouldn’t whisper behind his back, or try to win his attention, or ask him silly questions. He would just stare, avoiding his eyes when caught. There were a lot of those. The only reason Noct remembered his face at all was because this one was a bit different. He didn’t look at him like at some kind of zoo attraction. Most of the time he didn’t pay him any special mind at all, being far too busy sitting in a corner by himself, flipping through the pictures on his camera.

But _when_ he stared, he seemed… interested. Which was new. Most people weren’t interested, they were just curious. Fascinated. Sensationalist. This one looked like he wanted to walk over to him to ask if everything was alright. _Him_ , the person. Not the Crown Prince. But Noct tried not to read too much into it. Everyone wanted something from him. They just varied in their ability to hide it. As he hurried to help the other boy up, his expression still felt much more genuine than usual.

After this encounter, he saw the blonde kid around more often. He asked himself if he had just never noticed him before or if the other had developed some new interest in him. But the attention didn’t make him uncomfortable as it normally would, on the contrary. Spotting the blue eyes staring at him before their owner realised he had been caught became something of a new game to him - to the point where he was actually disappointed when a day went by without them appearing behind a corner. He didn’t tell anyone, of course. He could only imagine what his father or Ignis would think of him having a ‘stalker’. Because how would he be able to explain that whatever it was that motivated that kid, it felt so _sincere_ that he didn’t want it to stop.

But nothing ever came of the stares, and at some point, this little curiosity in his life faded into the background. By the time he was in middle school, he didn't think about the blonde boy with the blue eyes anymore.

***

He was fifteen years old and walking over the campus of his new high school, curious glances and agitated whispers following him like blowflies buzzing around his head. So far every single day of school had been like running the gauntlet, and it seemed like things wouldn’t change. On the contrary - they seemed to only get worse. At least that's what he thought when passing a group of squealing girls fluttering their eyelashes at him. 

He heard hasty steps approaching him von behind - _please keep going, just keep going_ \- and someome slapped him on the back. He turned around, half prepared to dismiss whoever had worked up the guts to approach him with a few snippy words - and was met with a faceful of blonde hair and a beaming grin.

'Hey there, Prince Noctis!'

'Huh?'

'I'm Prompto! Nice to meet you!'

His eyes seemed even bluer without the glasses - if that was possible - and the freckles on his cheeks were more prominent, as if he got out into the sun more often now. His whole figure was lanky but toned, with little to remind of the small chubby kid he had been in elementary school. But most of all, he didn't seem to be wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him anymore. The more confident, jovial expression suited him. A smile spread on Noct's lips as he looked into the expectant blue eyes - those eyes that were still so open and genuine that he immediately felt at ease.

'Don't I know you?'

***

He was seventeen years old and cursing the whole world as he smashed the door of his apartment shut behind him, punching the wall for good measure. This was ridiculous. It was unfair. It turned his stomach, all of it - the calm expression on his father’s face as he spoke of the war and his own failing health and of his son’s duty, always his _duty,_ to continue the line of kings and make sure Lucis would stand strong in the future. Or, in less pretty words, to get some girl into his bed and produce a child as fast as possible, as if he were some animal to breed, as if he weren’t little more than a child himself.

Of course Regis hadn’t meant it that way. Noct knew that his anger made him put words into his father’s mouth that hadn’t been there. At least not spoken aloud. The king had tried his best to pacify him, because this wouldn’t be an issue for years to come, because he only wished for him to get used to the thought and start bearing his responsibilities as he would have to in the future, because it was only natural for a teenager to be appalled by the thought of settling down. As if that was the problem.

If he had just been reluctant, he could have overcome it. But not this.

He let out a sarcastic chuckle. Of all the ways he could have failed as the future king of Lucis, this wasn’t the one he would have imagined.

He asked himself whether he should tell anyone. Like a normal person would. Probably. Actually, he had no idea what a normal person would do. And of course he wouldn’t, but _if_ … who would he tell, anyway? The answer to that was surprisingly easy. There was only one person who would listen, actually listen, without also worrying about the future of the kingdom or public scandals or whatnot. He could almost hear Prompto’s voice in his head: _So you’re gay. Huh. Well lucky me, I don’t need_ you _as competition with the ladies.’_

For a short moment, just for the hell of it, he thought about what Prompto would say if he would ask him out. But there was one very simple rule he had learned to obey in order to keep his sanity in this place that was his home, his destiny and his tomb: _Don’t think about things you can’t have._

A few weeks later, he had forgotten ever having that thought in the first place.

***

He was twenty years old and wondering if this was it; if what little freedom his childhood had allowed him was gone right here and now and there was nothing left to do but live and die as his destiny dictated. _Marriage_ was a big word, and the implications had always filled him with dread. Now that it was happening, he searched his emotions and found that he was surprisingly… well, not _happy_ , but content.

He would marry Luna. That was not perfect, but it was… okay. Luna knew him. Luna would understand.

At court, everyone was congratulating him. Everyone also knew about the empire’s involvement and that his choice in the matter had been non-existent. Prompto was different. He almost tripped over his own feet assuring Noct how happy he was for him and that he could count himself lucky and all these meaningless phrases that sounded so much more genuine when they came out of Prompto’s mouth. But he was also jumpy and overexcited – he was acting like he always did when something was not sitting right with him. It appeared to Noct that for him, this wasn’t a shady deal between nations, it wasn’t the inevitable course of life and duty and destiny. It was just his best friend leaving for another country he had only heard of so far, to return as a married man with a future that left that much less room for comic books and videogames and sleepovers and photo shootings.

And that was how he decided that Prompto would come with him to Altissia. He wouldn’t permit his best friend to feel left behind, and he wouldn’t go forth without the only normal person he had ever known; his anchor to ground him and keep his head straight, even if everything else threatened to crush him. He had been complacent, accepting his fate with minimal resistance – his father would have to allow him this much. And he _would_ allow it, even if Noct would have to move heaven and earth to ensure that he did.

***

He was almost twenty-one and staring at the familiar figure hanging from the cross-shaped contraption with the dread of a much older person – a person who had lost too much already and could not hope to retain their sanity if they had to watch one more precious thing slip through their fingers.

And Prompto was so still, so terribly still…

Noct raced down the dark corridor, past the empty cells.

He couldn’t be dead. Was that a movement going through his body, a shallow breath, a tremble? Or was it just a trick of the light? He shouldn’t be so still. He was _never_ still, always moving around, always restless. Always smiling. Except for now.

It was _his_ fault.

 _He_ had dragged him along, _he_ had left him from his sight. _He_ had pushed him off the train.

He threw the cell door open.

Prompto winced at the brightness of their flashlights, his eyes barely focussing. His wrists were raw from the shackles holding them and he drew in a sharp breath as Noct touched the chafed skin, trying to pry the metal clasps open.

His hands were cold as was everything in Zegnautus Keep; but there was warm blood flowing through them and a pulse thrumming in his throat and laboured breaths surging through his lungs. He was _alive_ and for once, Noct had gotten something back the empire had taken from him. His anchor, his connection to the real world, the one who could make him feel like a _person_ , the one who had never wanted anything from him and still given everything he had in return. And for the first time since Altissia, Noct felt something like real hope again.

Prompto was alive – and Ardyn would pay.

***

He was a man without age, a boy who had been forced to grow up much too fast and an old man, burdened with too much wisdom as he was nearing the end of his life, trapped in the body of neither. But that didn’t matter, because his friends were here, walking towards him; his friends who had always been at his side, no matter what. Gladio, battle-hardened and more serious than he had been before. Ignis, walking without seeing as if it was the most normal thing in the world, his expression cautious as he tried to decipher what was going on around him.

And Prompto. The last decade had left him neither hardened like Gladio nor weary like Ignis. It had reduced his freckles to faint shadows on his cheeks in the absence of the sun; it had given him a bit more muscle and a weird little goatee. But his smile was still the same as it had been at their first day in high school.

And just like that day, this smile made Noct feel warm and at ease. Because some things didn’t change, no matter how many years were stolen from him.

If he regretted one thing in this moment, it was that he had so little time left to see this smile again.

***

He was thirty years old, staring at the door falling shut behind his best friend; and for what seemed to be the first time in his life, he was wondering if there might be a future of his own making lying ahead of him.

Being alive after making peace with the reality of his own death had left him feeling out of place; he seemed to be stuck in limbo, unable to even leave his bed while the world kept spinning around him. Prompto’s confession – or at least his attempt at one – had made him ache for possibilities again. He had shoved the thought aside, as he was used to do. But then it had occurred to him that there were no more restrictions, that he had more freedom in the confines of his bed then he’d ever had before in his life. The thought made a stupid little giggle bubble up his throat, breaking his usual façade, and he deliberately ignored Ignis’s and Gladio’s questioning glances.

_Prompto loved him._

The sheer amount of possibilities made his head swim. He thought, tentatively: _Do I love him too?_

The question seemed silly. Of course he did. He blinked, taken aback. Somehow, he had expected falling in love to be much more… dramatic. But there was just this warm feeling of happiness in his stomach and the certainty in his head that this was _right_ ; it was easy and familiar and comfortable and everything he had missed in his life for such a long time. And now that he knew it was no longer impossible, he wanted it. He wanted it all.

He reached for his phone and opened the chat with Prompto’s name on top. He had only started to type as he paused again, surprised at how sweaty his hands were and how fast his heart was beating.

_Ah, so that’s where the butterflies come in._

***

He was shuffling out of his bedroom into the small kitchen of his apartment, not bothering to hide his yawn behind a hand. It had been a long night, full of late calls and last-minute preparations for the day and Ignis going over his schedule over and over again.

As he opened the fridge to find anything with enough sugar to get his brain to work despite the early hour, he heard a snicker behind him.

‘You look like shit.’

He turned around to find a tuft of blonde hair peeking over the backrest of his couch. With a grin, he kicked the fridge closed and let himself fall on the cushions next to Prompto.

‘When did you come back from Lestallum?’

The blonde shrugged. ‘About two hours ago. Came back early to bring you a present’, he added with a smug smile, obviously pleased with himself.

‘It’s not my birthday… is it?’ He was fairly sure it wasn’t, but sometimes he was still more out of the loop than he would care to admit.

‘Nah. Just something to cheer you up before you have to parade around and smile and wave and give speeches all day…’

Noct groaned.

‘Besides, it’s your one-year _did-not-die-_ iversary. I think that qualifies as almost something like a birthday.’

‘I’m pretty sure I _was_ dead, though. Does it still count?’

Prompto frowned. ‘Dude. Not funny.’

‘Sorry.’

Sometimes he had to remind himself that jokes about being dead tended to disturb most people. Noct himself had gotten over the whole thing fairly quickly, even if he was very aware that if it hadn’t been for a whole lot of dumb luck and probably some divine intervention, he wouldn’t be here right now. But being dead hadn’t been much of a challenge in itself. Coming back – that was another story. Not to think of the ritual in the throne room. He still awoke in a cold sweat from time to time because his scar was stinging so badly, he could swear he felt the ghostly blades slicing through his flesh all over again.

‘So what’s the present?’, he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. He succeeded, if Prompto’s returning grin and the way he leaned closer until their lips almost brushed were any indication.

‘I’m the present.’

Noct snorted in laughter, slipping one arm around the blonde’s shoulders.

‘Hm, let me guess… you want me to unwrap you?’

‘That’s what I’m here for.’

Noct hummed in thought, then he asked: ‘What time is it?’

‘One hour before Ignis waltzes in and chews you out for not standing at attention yet.’

‘Fair enough.’ Noct closed the distance between them and kissed him, only for Prompto to lock his arms around his neck and drag him down in a tangle of limbs.

Noct smiled against the blonde’s lips.

He was thirty-one years old, and for all the late nights, the speeches, the bad memories and old scars, he wouldn’t trade his life with anyone else’s for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, it's done! I don't know what to do with my life anymore... Thank you for sticking around until the end, I had so much fun!


End file.
